


Five Times Peter Made Michelle Laugh

by seekrest



Series: Luminous and Unstoppable [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, MJ still loves him, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, POV Michelle Jones, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Peter is chaotic dumbass energy personified, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home, Protective Michelle Jones, Protective Peter Parker, but also...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2020-10-12 19:10:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20569421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: And the one time he couldn’t.Or,Peter’s spider-sense can’t seem to keep up with his complete lack of common sense.Much to the endless amusement of Michelle.





	1. Locked Out.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to [Five Times Peter Tried to Save Michelle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18896770/chapters/44855035), a 5+1 that’s very near and dear to my heart. You don’t _have_ to read it to understand this one, but some of the references (especially from the first chapter) will make more sense if you do. 
> 
> Also, this story WILL become Far From Home compliant. Take from that what you will. :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy <3

“Peter?”

Michelle sets her purse down on the apartment counter, immediately on edge.

It’d been a long day. Carly was pressing her about several deadlines, her old boss Johnson had been lingering around her desk like a bad smell, and she still had a paper to finish before she could call it a night. 

_ Come on Parker, where are you? _ Michelle thought to herself, sighing as glanced around the apartment. She walks up to the fridge, checking to see if Peter had left any notes for her - only to catch sight of a snapshot of her and Peter, in the middle of Rockefeller Center. 

It had been a tourist trap of a picture, just moments after they’d fumbled back up from their fall. Michelle had rolled her eyes at the photographer but Peter - her idiotic, incredible, dumbass of a boyfriend, the absolute love of her life - had been insistent. 

Michelle smiles at the memory, putting a hand out over Peter’s face - a smile so wide and full that even through the picture, she can almost feel the joy radiating from him. 

The warmth of that moment between them, the feel of the cold rink beneath them in the middle of March - Michelle still remembers how stressed that time of her life had been, how simple and small her problems had really been.

Her biggest concern at the time had been what college she would be going to - if her and Peter would survive the distance. Michelle almost laughs at how young she was, how naive she’d been. 

She’d almost lost him, not even a year after taking that picture. Michelle still shudders at the memory.

The agony of holding him, the devastation that wrecked her when he stopped breathing. Michelle shakes her head, willing herself not to go back there. 

She turns out of the kitchen, setting her keys down on the counter beside her purse. 

Michelle couldn’t have anticipated where her life would’ve ended up, the haze of those first few years all blurring together. Michelle looks around the apartment once more, less looking for Peter and more taking in the memories. 

Her and Peter - despite all the obstacles, all the doubts, all the near-misses - were still going strong. Senior year of college, almost five years together - and Michelle wondered if life could get anymore perfect. 

She’d almost lost him. Michelle never let herself forget that. But she had gained so much more. 

They’d created a life together, a real one - a dream turned reality, one that she’d barely left herself have in high school. Michelle takes in the throw blanket May had gifted them, the broken blender neither she nor Peter had never bothered to fix. 

It was cozy, smaller than what was probably considered normal for someone with a trust fund as large as Peter’s - but Michelle didn’t mind. 

She loved their place, loved the life she was building with Peter. Michelle’s heart warmed at the thought of her high school dreams coming to life as she took in the calm and quiet. 

It hits her then, that the apartment - small, slightly messy and dearly beloved - was entirely _ too _quiet. 

Michelle glances down at her watch, notes the time then looks up. Half past six.

Peter should be back from the airport by now. She grabs her phone out, shoots a quick text and stands - waiting. 

Ned was supposed to come in from MIT for spring break, getting a head start since he didn’t have classes after Wednesday. As Michelle taps her fingers against her phone, she wonders if maybe she’d read Ned’s arrival time wrong.

Michelle waits for a second, then sends another text. 

It’s then that she hears it, the buzzing of Peter’s phone. She overturns the couch cushion, moving the blanket to see it there. 

Something stops in Michelle - a slight and sharp feeling of panic. 

Peter - her idiotic, incredible, dumbass of a boyfriend - would never leave his phone around for someone to take. Not willingly. 

He’d been awkward in high school, all knees, elbows and over zealous in his affection. Michelle thought it had been adorable even then. 

But irresponsible? Absent-minded enough to leave his phone behind?

It wasn’t like the Peter she knew. He hadn’t been that way in years. 

Michelle takes a deep breath, willing herself to not overreact while she taps out another quick message to Ned. 

She’s thrown off by another set of buzzing, noticing then that Ned’s phone - _ what was Ned’s phone doing here? _\- was on their messy coffee table. She pushes a magazine out of the way, grabs the phone and thinks. 

_ Why would both their phones be here? _

* * *

It hits her suddenly, then in waves.

The panic. The agony. The immediate devastation and memory of that awful day. 

In her nightmares, especially the nights when Peter was still off on patrol when Michelle was alone — she would still wake up in a cold sweat, shaking at the memory of holding Peter, of the blood that poured out of him relentlessly. 

It was something he tried to soothe, would seem to immediately have a sense for where Michelle’s mind had gone as soon as he came back home. 

Peter, seeing the look in her eyes - still sweaty and gross from patrol would strip off his suit and take her into his arms, cradling her until Michelle could hear his heartbeat just as clearly as she knew he could hear hers.

Any other time, she would push him towards the shower - joking and laughing about whatever germs he’d picked up. 

But on the bad nights, the nights that came more often than she was willing to admit, his soft and steady breathing would calm her racing heart. 

It soothed her, to hear him breathing. To feel it, hold on to it, commit the rhythm of his chest inhaling and exhaling to mind.

Michelle’s convinced the memory of holding Peter’s body as he stopped breathing would be something she’d never be able to shake. It would horrify her, gripping Peter’s arms tighter, bringing him closer to her until she’d move against him - pushing out the memories in favor of creating new ones with him as their bodies intertwined. 

After, when all that would be between them was whispered promises, tangled sheets and Peter’s soft snores, Michelle would be content to just watch him - relishing the steady rise and fall of his chest. 

Peter slept in the same way he approached life - enthusiastically and without abandon. Michelle loved his wild hair, the way he seemed burrow into the pillows and sheets. She’d laugh to herself, the image reminding her almost of a spider creating a nest. 

On those quiet nights, especially when Peter had long since fallen asleep, Michelle would lightly trace her fingers along his back, the entrance scar from where the android that had nearly ended him - and Michelle’s whole world - having been long gone. 

The physical scars on Peter had only lasted for a few days. But Michelle wondered if the ones she still carried with her would ever go away. 

* * *

Michelle wills herself not to panic, wills herself to calm down as she thinks. 

_ You’re logical. Figure this out, Jones. _

She takes a beat, looks around the apartment once more.

Peter and Ned should’ve been back from the airport hours ago. There’s no reason for the both of them to be without their phones. Unless… 

Peter had mentioned that he and Ned had been discussing some kind of undercover operation out in Cambridge. They’d talked about it just last week, brainstorming how Spider-Man could make an appearance some 200 miles away without being suspicious. 

Michelle turns, bringing her phone out to call Sam since he was usually the one Peter connected with before taking on things outside of New York’s city limits when she notices for the first time - Ned’s luggage. 

_ What the hell? _

Michelle’s immediately on high alert, mind churning away from some kind of ill-fated caper to something more sinister. 

_ Did someone break in? Who - or what - could possibly be able to take out Peter and Ned? _

Michelle’s phone is out, finger poised over the panic button Peter had given her. Ned wasn’t a superhero but he was smart, almost as smart as Peter. 

Their smarts, combined with Peter’s strength and ‘sense’ should’ve told them something was coming. 

She hears a noise coming from her bedroom, Michelle even more on alert, grabs a baseball bat - another acquisition from her life together with Peter.

Michelle has never more thankful for the random gifts that Spider-Man seemed to get. 

She takes a step towards the bedroom, opens the door and stops. 

Completely bewildered.

Because there, outside on the fire escape are Peter and Ned. 

He’s waving frantically to her, Ned seemingly bored out of his mind looking out to the city.

“MJ!”

Peter - sweating profusely, sighing in relief that Michelle had seemingly finally walked into the bedroom. 

She walks a bit closer, lowering the bat as she takes in Peter’s appearance.

He’s not hurt. There’s sweat dripping down his face and down his chest, his shirt long discarded and hanging from the fire escapes’ ledge. His hair is matted down, his eyes look tired and Michelle’s fairly convinced from the way he’s dancing about on the fire escape that he likely has to go to the bathroom. 

She rushes forward to open the window but is stopped by Peter waving his hands. 

“MJ! Wait don’t!” She pauses, hands outstretched. 

Peter looks panicked suddenly, Michelle waiting.

“Don’t touch the window.”

“Why?”

“It’s…” Peter turns to Ned, who at this point seems completely unfazed and disinterested. From years of knowing him, Michelle can tell that Ned has gone beyond annoyed to resignation to whatever predicament he and Peter had found themselves in. 

“Just don’t touch it alright? It’s an electrical thing.”

Michelle quirks an eyebrow.

“An electrical thing? It’s a window, Pete.”

Peter sighs, putting a hand to his face.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. That’s the problem. Look, just-- call Sam or something? I couldn’t get us down because people keep passing by but anytime I tried to call out for someone to help us, they just ignored me.”

“Or told us to work it out ourselves. We’re dating now by the way.” Ned pipes up, drawn in to tell his side of the story. 

Michelle lets out a sharp laugh. ‘Oh yeah?” Ned nods.

“Yeah apparently your neighbor two floors down thinks we’re cute and should really work out our differences. She heard us arguing earlier and until we ‘kiss and makeup’, she refuses to call for help.”

Michelle smirks as Peter rolls his eyes.

“You didn’t have to keep talking to her, Ned.”

“See Peter, this is why I don’t think we’re going to work. I tell you what I’m feeling and you just dismiss it. My feelings matters too, you know.” Ned turns to Michelle. 

“Isn’t he a terrible boyfriend?” Peter turns his head to face hers, Michelle smiling.

“Oh the worst. And she’s right, you guys would make a very cute couple.” She leans in, watching as Peter’s widen in alarm to how close she is to the window. 

“You just need to listen more, Pete. Communicate. It works wonders.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Seriously MJ, please don’t get too close to the window.”

Michelle frowns, looking it over again.

“I don’t get it. What the hell is electrical about our window?” Peter turns to Ned, a silent argument between them. 

Michelle immediately recognizes the look on Peter’s face - a consequence of having dated him for almost five years. 

Clearly, they’d done something to the window -- to the building, most likely -- and were debating on how much of a dumbass idea it would be to tell Michelle. 

As Peter goes to speak up, Michelle is already convinced that it’ll likely be the stupidest thing she’s ever heard. 

“We were trying to help regulate the air conditioning by connecting it to the apartment’s powergrid. You know how it gets way too cold at night? I messed with some of the glass back at the lab and basically applied an extra layer to our window, hoping to connect the two and somehow offset the costs because of the change in electrical energy.”

Michelle’s right. It’s the dumbest - and most confusing - thing she’s ever heard. 

“Peter, none of that made any sense.” Before Peter can open his mouth, Michelle stops him, continuing “And don’t say it’s because I’m an English major, Peter or I promise you, I will leave you out here all night.” 

She turns to Ned. “Not you Leeds, I’ll find a way to get you out of there.”

“Thanks, MJ.” 

Peter scowls, scrunching up his nose in a way that makes a little part of Michelle’s heart melt. He was older than he’d been when they first started dating, would turn twenty-two in a couple of months. 

And yet Michelle’s heart still skipped a beat when she saw his smile, when his eyes almost sparkle from a laugh, just as it did when she was seventeen - young and in love. 

She thinks for a minute then turns to walk away.

“MJ!”

“I’m not going anywhere, Pete. I’m just thinking…” She trails off, walking towards the light switch in their bedroom. 

“If you did some electrical shit, couldn’t I just turn off the switch?”

Peter’s eyes widen but Michelle’s flipped it.

“MJ no!”

And then everything goes black.

* * *

She’s immediately thrown into the darkness, the sunlight streaming through the window. But it’s not just the bedroom that’s gone dark, Michelle pokes a head out - sees their cozy, tiny apartment has gone pitch black. 

She turns back to Peter, a look of resignation on his face. 

“What the hell just happened?”

“I didn’t want you to flip the switch.”

“Okay…”

“Cause when we did the wiring, we never actually got around to disconnecting it from the apartment’s power grid. And trying to install the glass, we didn’t realize until we were out here that it’d basically gone live the minute we locked it into place.”

Peter looks back up to her, eyes vacant and seemingly reconciled to what was going to come next. 

“Turning off the switch turned off the power to the building.” 

Michelle blinks. 

A beat.

And then bursts out laughing. 

“MJ.”

She can’t stop laughing, shaking her head at the absurdity of it all. 

Peter groans, shaking his head. 

“Come on, MJ.”

“I just… I can’t…” Michelle’s laughter is carrying throughout the apartment, tears starting to stream down her face. 

“That’s why I tried to warn you. I didn’t want to cause trouble for the building.” He waits.

“Again.” 

Michelle just shakes her head, wiping the tears from her face. 

“You could’ve _ led _ with that, Parker.” 

Peter only sighs, an exasperated expression on his face. 

“MJ...”

But Michelle is too far gone, cracking up at the entire situation. Ned just shakes his head, Michelle recognizing that whatever argument they had had about her reaction, she had just proven him right. 

“I told you this was a dumb idea, man.”

“Oh come on Ned, you thought it would work too.” Peter spits back at Ned, sighing as he turns back to see Michelle taking out her phone.

“Oh come on M, what are you doing?”

“Committing this moment to memory. Sam will get a kick out of this.”

Peter groans.

“Please don’t send that. I get enough shit from him as it is.” Michelle only smiles, thumbs tapping furiously.

“Too late.” Peter sighs once more, waiting to meet Michelle’s gaze. Seeing the look on his face, Michelle feels almost bad for laughing at the ridiculousness of it - especially considering how miserable he looked. 

Almost. 

“Aren’t you both geniuses? Like certifiable geniuses? You go to Ivy League schools, you colossal dumbasses. Why the hell did you think this would be a good idea?” 

“That’s not very nice, MJ.”

“Whatever, Leeds you know I’m right.”

Michelle tentatively goes to open the window, Peter waving his hands.

“Michelle, don’t--”

“Don’t what?” She pushes the window up, Peter looking on exasperated.

He glides in gracefully, Ned stumbling in not too far behind. As both he and Michelle help Ned, he turns to Michelle.

“You could’ve gotten hurt.” 

Michelle shrugs.

“Only thing hurt was your pride, Parker. What did we talk about you trying to hot rod our apartment?” She slides up closer to him, sweeping away some of his sweaty, slicked-back hair. 

“If it bothers you so much, why don’t we just move?” 

Peter grins, leaning in closer.

“And miss out on having Georgio’s for dinner every night? You gotta be kidding.” 

Michelle smiles, leaning in until their lips meet. They only separate when Ned starts to make a gagging noise. 

“Please control yourself I have a sensitive stomach.”

“Come on Leeds. It’s not my fault you and Pete couldn’t make it work out.” 

Ned laughs, walking out of the bedroom. “Yeah well, I think you guys make a better couple anyway.” 

As he walks out of the bedroom, Peter’s arms encircle Michelle, bringing her in even closer. His face is inches from hers, his body heat radiating from him, the sweat glistening off his broad chest. Michelle’s heart beats a little faster.

“I think he’s right.”

She grins, barely suppressing a smile.

“Yeah, I guess he is.” Peter’s eyes light up, Michelle grinning. 

As their lips meet once more, Michelle can’t help but think that even as ridiculous as Peter’s plan had been - he’d at least succeeded in one thing.

Her shitty day may have stressed her out, she still had a paper to write - but for just a few brief moments, Michelle had completely forgotten about anything other than the absurdity of Peter’s predicament. 

They still had to tangle with the light situation, Peter would likely have to figure out a way to undo the mess he had inevitably created. 

But Michelle was at least happy for one thing. 

Peter was safe. Peter was whole. 

And Peter - her idiotic, dumbass, incredible boyfriend, the absolute love of her life - would never, _ ever _ fail to make her laugh. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello it me again, coming at you with some fluffy content. Writing [Someday We’ll Know](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20033305/chapters/47438809) has been emotionally draining & as much as I adore that story, this little sequel is something I’ve been working on since the summer. Before I end up breaking everyone’s hearts, I thought you all might like something different - PROOF that in some universes, I do give them happy endings....
> 
> Eventually
> 
> ;)


	2. Birthday Surprise.

“I have told you, time and time again, that you do _ not _ need to do anything for my birthday.” 

Peter groaned, rolling his eyes.

“But MJ…” He whined, Michelle putting a hand up. 

“Nope. No. Don’t start with me, Peter. I already told you, I have a lot on my plate with work, and with finals coming up, I--”

“MJ, come on.” Michelle gave him a look, smirking as his lips turned into a pout. 

Peter leans forward on the couch they’re on, Michelle’s breath catching as he leans in closer. 

“You sure you don’t like surprises?” His voice is low, husky in a way that immediately makes Michelle’s insides rattle around even as she glances around the crowded coffee shop.

His voice reminds her too much of warm summer nights, of cold winter mornings - of seemingly endless stretches of time when there’s no one around and nothing between them. It’s a voice she knew well, but not one she expected him to be so brazen about in public. 

Michelle laughs, trying to ease the tension building. “I didn’t say I don’t like surprises, I said you don’t have to do anything for my birthday.” She notices as Peter doesn’t say anything, noses almost touching as his eyes are focused on her lips.

“What if it’s a birthday surprise?” Michelle gasps, Peter’s hands suddenly traveling up her thigh. 

“_ Peter, _what the hell.” Her heart is beating so fast she’s sure everyone in the coffee shop can hear it. She knows without a doubt Peter can — watching as his face breaks out into a smirk, giving her a quick kiss before he leans away from her. 

“Just saying,” He settles back into his chair winking as Michelle lets air that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding out of her lungs, “I think you’d like my surprise.”

Michelle takes a deep breath, rolling her eyes as she tried to steady her hands back over laptop. She frowns at Peter. “The only surprise I need is from Professor Halloway, saying he’s going to cancel this final.”

“Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” Peter’s eyes are back on his physics homework, Michelle shaking her head. 

“Have you always been this annoying?”

“Yep. Took you long enough to figure that out.”

* * *

It’s hard now for Michelle to remember their fumbling days in high school, back when Peter had been hesitant - cautious in a way that had aggravated Michelle.

Now it seemed that Peter could hardly keep his hands off her, something that Michelle couldn’t bring herself to complain about even if it still baffled her. 

Five years after they first started dating, and Peter still looked at her like she hung the stars.

She shouldn’t have been surprised, the idea of Peter being so completely smitten with her considering how often he told her - and showed her - how much he loved her. 

Michelle knew from a lifetime of watching her parents that love, _ real _ love, didn’t fizzle out but changed - altered as an accommodation to the changes brought about by two evolving people. 

She loved Peter. And Peter loved her. 

But the way they loved each other now was different than what it had been in high school. 

Living together was something she used to daydream about, her fantasies revolving around the long stretches of time where it would just be the two of them with nothing and no one to bother them. 

She’d looked forward to the time when their lives and their time revolved around little more than filling every moment with meeting every unspoken desire - something she’d think was straight out of the cheesy romance novels she never admitted to reading. 

The reality was a bit different. 

* * *

Peter snored. She’d known that from high school, first from watching him as he’d fall asleep in class, to late night movie nights with Ned, before seeing it for herself, when Peter would sneak in to her bedroom at night.

She used to think it was cute, hearing him snore, his hair always wild from where her fingers had laced through it a few minutes before, breathless and content. 

Michelle had wondered if her parents ever heard him - she had never been much of a snorer or sleep talker - but considering there hadn’t been any more broken windows, maybe they hadn’t cared. 

Then again, for as open and as cool as they were as far as parents went, Michelle had to guess they hadn’t exactly been aware of their late night rendezvous. 

But now, his snores weren’t cute. 

They were loud. Aggravating. Like a freight train.

* * *

“Peter. Peter. _ Peter. _” 

Michelle sighs, her whispers becoming less and less so as he continues to snore, oblivious to anything around him. She squinted at him, envying how quickly he could fall asleep.

She knew he was exhausted, juggling not just a full slate of classes and part-time work in SI but his Spider-Man gig. Her heart still clenched at the idea of all the things he was involved in, it was the latter that still scared her the most. 

Michelle knew that with graduation approaching, Peter would be more likely to choose doing Spider-Man work full time. Even if he’d been accepted to Columbia for a PhD in biophysics and his work at SI was always available to him, Michelle still worried that it would be his side gig that would finally take him away from her. 

But then he’d come home, sometimes bruised, sometimes not — kissing her like she had some truth he’d been searching for — before picking her up effortlessly and leading her to their bedroom.

It wasn’t a bad way to end most nights, if Michelle was honest. 

But now, 3am and still awake because of Peter’s constant and obnoxious snoring, Michelle kicks herself for not falling asleep right away.

“Peter.” Her voice is at its normal pitch now, eyes narrowing as Peter blissfully continues to snore. She considers her options for a few seconds before sighing and giving his arm a not-so-light smack.

Peter’s head immediately snaps up, halfway ready to jump up before Michelle puts her own hand over to his arm.

“Just me.”

Peter blinks then hums in response, settling back down into their covers. 

“Oh no you don’t. Wake up, Pete.”

“Hmph?”

“You’re snorting. _ Again _. I can’t keep doing this.”

“S’ry.” Peter mumbles, his eyes still closed. Michelle sighs.

“You know the rules. Unless you want to sleep on the couch, you have to wait for me to fall asleep first.” 

Peter doesn’t answer, Michelle poking him in the chest. He smirks, Michelle grinning.

“You gonna keep pretending like you’re asleep?”

“I _ am _ asleep, Michelle.”

“Then how are you talking to me right now?” 

“I’m not. It’s a dream. Oooh.” Michelle just laughs, cuddling up to his chest. He’s warm - he always was, something she’d hypothesized that had to do with his spider thing - but it’s not uncomfortable, Michelle wrapping her arms around his waist, Peter using his to bring her closer. 

She feels his steady breathing against her, feeling herself relax. Peter was always quick to fall asleep, but there was something about hearing his heartbeat, the steady rise and fall of his chest that lulled Michelle right to sleep. 

* * *

Peter was also messy, in a way that she knew even before they had moved in together. 

The stolen moments in his bedroom, the hangouts they’d have with Ned - Michelle had always noticed how cramped and cluttered everything had been. 

She’d never said anything, her mind going straight to the clear, recurring money problems that he and May had. It wasn’t her place to judge, something her parents had impressed upon her and her sister her whole life. 

But then they’d moved in together, into an apartment that was small but arguably large enough for both of their belongings. Michelle reasoned that with Peter having the ability to fill up an entire apartment - even knowing that he was reluctant to use any of the money that Tony had given him - Michelle figures that his lack of space had been the reason for him to have been as cluttered as he’d been. 

She learned quickly how wrong she was. 

Books, half-finished web experiments, chemistry notes, random bills - everywhere. Peter was a hurricane, billowing and thunderous as he stormed through life. It was appealing to Michelle in the abstract, the idea of a man that could — literally — sweep her off her feet, that chased life with the kind of abandon that she could only dream about. 

The reality of it manifested into crumbs on the floor, receipts everywhere, clothes that she wasn’t ever sure whether they were clean or dirty. 

Michelle had never considered herself a neat freak until she moved in with Peter, but then she wondered if maybe it was just his own complete lack of understanding of how he was that made her so nitpicky about things. 

It wasn’t enough to become a drawn-out argument, at first. Little things that piled up over and over, until eventually it had turned into a screaming match - Michelle shouting and Peter yelling over her - a fight that had, in Michelle’s mind, actually made the walls shake. 

* * *

Michelle takes a steady breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her voice was rough from shrieking at him, knowing Peter was just as pissed as she was.

“Peter, if you do not start picking up after yourself, I promise I’ll—“

“What, MJ? It’s not that big of a deal.” Peter was fuming, hands leaning over the counter of their kitchen.

“But it _ is _a big deal, to me. And I don’t understand how you can’t see that.” 

Michelle was agitated, frustrated that for what felt like the fourth time this week - Peter had left his clothes all over the floor.

It was a tiny thing, one that didn’t warrant the screaming match they were in but Michelle knew they were both arguing about something else entirely. 

Peter had gotten hurt the night before, a hit that had made Michelle’s heart freeze when he stumbled in. He was fine the next morning, as he always was - but seeing the clothes on the floor reminded Michelle of what had happened - how close she had almost lost him.

“Peter, look at me.” He does, Michelle seeing the frustration in his eyes. 

There’s a tension in his eyes before something else flashes before them, Michelle feeling the familiar stirring in her gut.

Peter’s in front of her before she blinks, head spinning at how fast he moved.

“You can’t keep leaving your clothes everywhere.”

“I thought you liked when I walked around naked.” His voice is low, Michelle’s heartbeat hammering in her ears seeing his eyes look towards her lips.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not changing anything. I’m just pointing out what you’ve already said.”

His nose was touching hers, Michelle feeling his arms wrap around her. 

“It’s not the same and you know it.” Michelle whispers, already feeling the fight within her deflating. Peter doesn’t answer, crashing his lips onto hers and lifting her up effortlessly. 

Michelle’s legs are wrapped around him in an instant, thankful on some level that she hadn’t changed out of the t-shirt she’d slept in.

She wraps her arms around him, running her fingers through his hair, pulling on it like she knew he liked. 

Before she can even register that he’s moving, her back is pressed against the wall, Peter moaning into her mouth. Michelle loved the sound of it, loved the effect she had on him as she felt him against her. 

Michelle was angry with him still, pissed off but the feel of Peter’s tongue in her mouth, made her mind fuzzy, focusing instead on his chest against hers, using her arms to press him closer. 

She motioned for his pajama bottoms but Peter was already ahead of her, tightening his grip on her thighs as he moved them away. 

Michelle sighs as Peter began to leave open mouthed kisses along her collarbone. He lifts his head up to face her, Michelle nodding as he slowly pushed himself into her, letting her adjust around him. He drops his head to her shoulder, Michelle closing her eyes as he started to move. 

“Don’t think I forgot that we’re arguing. I’m mad at you. You’re a mess.” Michelle murmurs after a few moments, feeling Peter’s laughter before his face comes up to meet hers.

“Tell me something I don’t know, MJ.” Michelle doesn’t push it, choosing instead to bring her lips to his. He kisses her back with fervor as she moves her hips, causing Peter to groan. 

Michelle could almost laugh at how often they’d find themselves tangled together - moving in a familiar rhythm that made Michelle glad that those early days of Peter’s hesitancy had been long gone. 

Each time, Michelle would tell herself that it wasn’t enough - that eventually they’d have to figure out another way to solve their arguments than just through half-angry make up sex.

It was probably unhealthy, or a sign of more dangerous things to come - their inability to address their problems or end arguments any other way but physically. Michelle almost thinks to bring it up, thinking that maybe they’d communicated better in high school. 

But then Peter picked up the pace, rolling his hips against hers in a way that made Michelle cry out. 

“Fuck, Peter.” 

Peter doesn’t answer, Michelle’s grip in his hair tightening as he angled himself to move faster, pushing her closer to the edge. 

Michelle considered that all of the issues a relationship could have, maybe his messiness was a problem another day. 

As she starts to lose focus, Peter’s movements becoming more and more irregular as he started whispering her name, Michelle’s mind wanders away from anything - everything and anything - except this moment with him. 

* * *

Michelle laid out in bed, tired even though it was still mid-morning. She watched him lazily exit the bathroom from bed, Peter drying off his wet hair before as he crawled in beside her. 

He propped his shoulder up to look at her, Michelle making a face. 

“You took up all the hot water.”

Peter smirked, softly caressing the hair out of her face as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“No one said you couldn’t join me.” 

“Someone had to answer the door for the super. Besides, I’m pretty sure he likes me more than you.”

Peter makes a face, one that has a hint of jealousy.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Michelle just laughs, moving closer to him. Peter wraps his arm around her as Michelle burrows her head into his chest.

“Absolutely nothing, Pete. You got nothing to worry about.”

Peter says nothing, just bringing her closer to him. As her eyes start to close, she thinks back to the argument - understanding that even if there was never really a resolution, there didn’t really need to be one. 

Her and Peter were always on the same side. They were different but similar in all the ways that mattered. 

And of all the ways they could end their arguments -- about the laundry and the mess or whatever— all that really mattered is that they stayed on the wavelength.

As long as they still communicated, still felt heard by each other - Michelle knew that everything would work out okay. 

* * *

It’s this train of thought that comes to mind when Peter asks if he can come meet her for lunch at work next week.

Michelle would later think that she should’ve anticipated that Peter had something more in mind than just picking up food, knowing good and well that Peter stayed away from the Bugle for her own peace of mind as much his. 

She didn’t think twice of the timing of the request or why Peter had been so insistent on her wearing a skirt until she got an over the office call from Carly, asking to see her.

Michelle hadn’t been in her office all morning, running around the building as she tried to get assistance for a story on the Rhino idiot that Peter had run into the other day. She had barely glanced at her phone, remembering her lunch plans as her stomach grumbled while she walked towards Carly’s office. 

It was only then that she saw a few texts from Peter. She dismissed them - something she would regret - and walked into Carly’s office.

“You needed me?”

Carly reminded Michelle a lot of Pepper Potts - forthright, determined and frank. Seeing her look slightly frazzled was enough to make Michelle pause.

“Michelle, I’m going to say this once because I respect you and your work.”

Michelle stills, mind frantically running through what she could’ve done. The Rhino thing was a bit of a stretch, Michelle knew that her beat was more focused on city life. But reporting on the things that Peter did gave her the chance to learn more about what Peter faced without excuse - even if her involvement was yet another argument that her and Peter had yet to come to an agreement on.

Peter hated that she put herself in danger by writing stories. Michelle hated that Peter thought he was the only one who was allowed to. 

That particular argument ended in the shower, even as Peter refused to talk to her about it afterward. It was something rings in her mind just then, that Peter might’ve been right - that maybe Carly was also displeased with where her work was going.

“I understand that you and your boyfriend are still in the honeymoon phase but this—“ Carly grits her teeth, Michelle seeing the tension in her face, “is a workplace, a newsroom that prides itself on journalistic integrity.”

Michelle felt bewildered, wondering if somehow Carly had been able to hear her own thoughts. 

“You’re a good journalist, Michelle. A great one. I’ll let this go this time but… don’t let there be a next time.”

Michelle - still at a complete loss - opened and closed her mouth as she tried to wrap her head around what Carly was saying.

_ Is Carly enhanced now? _

“I’m sorry, did I miss something?”

Carly’s eyes narrow, scanning Michelle’s face. She must see the honest confusion in it because Carly almost breaks out into a smirk, pressing her lips firmly together.

“It seems that you have.”

Michelle waits, watching as Carly sighs and shakes her head.

“Take the day, Michelle. I think your boyfriend will want to explain it to you in person.”

* * *

Michelle immediately texts Peter as soon as she’s out of the Bugle, walking as fast as she could towards the subway.

Peter calls her in response.

“MJ, what the hell, I thought we were going to—“

“Peter, what’s going on?”

Peter’s silent on the other line, Michelle seeing a familiar shadow swing by. She sighs, tightening her grip on the phone.

“Meet me on the roof of the Chase building.”

When she arrives, Peter is already there - unmasked and wringing it together in his hand. The wind whips at Michelle’s skirt, already regretting letting Peter talk her into wearing it.

“What the hell is going on?”

Peter looks mortified, embarrassed though Michelle can’t figure out why.

“You said… that you were okay with getting lunch today.”

Michelle nodded slowly, walking up to him. Peter looks to her then away, grimacing.

“I, uh, I might have wanted to do more than just eat lunch.”

Michelle stares at him for a second before it hits, the realization dawning on her.

Her birthday was tomorrow.

The innuendo over coffee this morning.

The argument last night. 

The insistence on her wearing a skirt. 

The embarrassed flush on his face now.

“Peter Parker, what did you do?”

Peter puts his hand in his face, Michelle’s eyes widening. 

“I thought you’d be in your office, like I could just surprise you when you came by for lunch.”

_ Oh God. _

“Peter…”

“I didn’t realize it was your boss until she was already in, I was too focused on making sure everything looked right.”

“Looked right?”

Peter groans, rubbing his hands across his face as if to rid himself of the embarrassment. 

“I may have, um… been waiting for you.”

“Peter.”

“And I may not have ... had any clothes on she walked in.”

Michelle feels her stomach drop, the horrifying realization dawning on her.

“Oh my God.”

Peter snorts. “Yeah, that’s what your boss said too.”

Michelle pauses. 

Blinks.

And then bursts out laughing.

“MJ…”

Michelle is wheezing, doubled over as she shakes her head.

“What the_ fuck _, Peter!? You could’ve gotten me fired! Or sued for sexual harassment. What the hell were you thinking?”

Peter groans, Michelle feeling slightly sorry for him.

“I know, I know, I’m _ sorry _, I just thought it would be a good birthday surprise. Especially since it’s tomorrow, I figured you wouldn’t expect it. And after last night…” Peter sighs, shaking his head. “I didn’t realize you didn’t understand what I was saying this morning.

Michelle wracks her brain to try and remember the specific conversation but she finds that she can’t, her mind instead going to the image of Peter waiting for her - naked in her office - with Carly walking in. Her eyes widen she continues to laugh. 

“_ Please _ tell me that Carly didn’t actually see you naked.”

Peter flushes a new shade of red, scratching the back of his neck.

“Ah, uh, no. I might’ve… might’ve had something else covering me.”

Michelle barely holds back a snicker, shaking her head in both awe and disbelief.

“And that was?”

“Don’t, MJ.”

“Oh my _ God _, Peter what the hell were you thinking?”

Michelle can’t stop laughing now, the shade of red Peter was turning just setting her off further.

She was still a little mad about him from last night, half-ignoring her phone because of it. But then Peter just groans, miserable and embarrassed - and it makes Michelle think that maybe he’s been punished enough.

“Fuck, MJ.”

“That’s exactly what got you into this mess, you gotta get your mind right, Parker.”

“Stop it.”

“You really need to start thinking with your brain instead of your —“

“_ STOP. _” Michelle laughs as Peter lets out a massive sigh, shaking his head as he walked towards her.

“You’re terrible, you know that?”

“I’m not the one who showed up to the other’s place of work expecting a quickie.”

“Can we just drop this?”

“Nope. Never. Not in a million years. We’re taking this bit to Vegas, starting a new comedy show.”

Peter rolls his eyes, bringing her closer.

“With my luck, we’d just end up getting booed off the stage.”

Michelle wraps her arms around his neck as he leans in.

“You’ll be fine. Besides, you got me.”

Peter smirks, face inches from hers.

“Are you my lucky charm?”

“Lucky charm? I’m the whole prize.” Right before he leans in, Michelle smiles - looking right into Peter’s eyes.

Michelle knew that this wasn’t the end of their arguments, about the Rhino - the danger - or anything else. That even if they’d been dating for years, Michelle convinced that she’d spend the rest of her life with this idiot, that she’d never really be angry about Peter wanting to show her how much he loved her. 

She’d have to apologize to Carly later, though Michelle had a feeling that all was already forgiven. 

Peter smiled as she stared at him, the love in his eyes undeniable. 

They still had a lot to figure out about the future, had to find arguably better ways to solve their problems. 

But Michelle knew - as they always did - that they’d figure it out together. 

Michelle leans in closer, lips inches away from his. 

“Face it tiger, you hit the jackpot.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and I oop--
> 
> Told myself I wouldn't update this for another week but I'm still emo about [Someday We'll Know ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20033305/chapters/47438809)so HEY HERE WE GO WHY NOT


	3. Misconceptions.

“Hey Pete, it’s me. Can you please pick up some mozzarella if you can? Dinner tonight will be fine without it but I think I want caprese salad tomorrow. Call me when you get this. Love you.” 

Michelle hangs up the phone with her elbow, humming to herself as she got the capers out, glancing at the clock. 

Peter was supposed to have been home thirty minutes ago, though she knew that with his new schedule, he was still adjusting to balancing everything.

Michelle smirked as she rinsed the capers, placing them in a bowl for when she was ready for them like her mom had taught her. 

If her high school self could’ve seen her now, she probably would’ve rioted - arguing that doing something as antiquated and domestic as making dinner for her significant other, waiting for them to come home, would be the pinnacle of failure in dismantling the patriarchy. 

As she poured some olive oil into another pan, gingerly placing a cut of chicken on it, Michelle didn’t seem to think it was really a step back - especially since Peter was arguably the better cook between them, though that wasn’t saying much.

Michelle knew Peter was stressed about grad school, saying on more than one occasion that his research was kicking his ass - even just two months into his doctoral program. 

For someone who had never had any issue with school before, Michelle could sense that Peter had to be more concerned that he was letting on if he mentioned it at all. 

It had been a switch, from NYU engineering to Columbia’s biophysics program but one that had on paper, seemed to suit him just fine. Yet his worry about deadlines and meeting expectations made Michelle second guess her own plans to pursue further higher education.

As the chicken sizzled, Michelle adjusting the heat - she hoped that making dinner would help alleviate even the smallest piece of his daily stress, especially since finding something to eat usually fell to him.

Michelle also knew that loved her chicken piccata and she loved eating it, so really - it was a win, win. 

The phone rang again, Michelle wiping her hands before answering.

“Hey Pete.”

“Hey, MJ. I got your message, I’m on my way. It might take me a little longer cause I had to take the subway for the first half of the trip.”

Michelle could hear the wind through the phone, a signal that Peter was clearly swinging through the city.

She glanced out the kitchen to the window, seeing the rain - but her eyebrows still furrowed at Peter’s statement.

“If the rain was so bad that you had to take the subway, why are you out there now?”

“Nah it wasn’t the rain,” Michelle heard the wind a little more clearly now, a mild pang of concern flowing through her at the thought of Peter swinging through it, “Quentin left the same time I did, wanted to talk about a conference coming up that he thinks we should apply for.”

Michelle frowned, eyes glancing to the chicken before she speaks. “Doesn’t Quentin live on the opposite side of town?”

“Yeah, but he’s heading out for the weekend. Some kind of family trip.”

Michelle says nothing, hearing the sigh on the other end. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Pete,” Michelle flips the chicken, turning her phone off speaker and bringing it to her ear, “Are you gonna apply? Where’s the conference at?”

Peter proceeds to tell her, Michelle’s mind wandering. 

It was nice to listen to Peter ramble on about school, conferences, and other things that he was clearly passionate about. But Michelle’s mind was elsewhere, thinking of Quentin - her immediate dislike of him - and her own concerns about their future.

* * *

She met him at a SI gala, though the memory of that night was soured for her. 

Pepper understood that Peter wanted to prioritize his education - choosing a PhD and Spider-Man while letting SI fall to the side. Michelle couldn’t rightfully say she was upset with the decision, but the prospect of Peter continuing to be Spider-Man — and the idea that he would never stop — was something that still rattled her.

It was a conversation that Michelle knew would be fruitless, their first argument about that during their freshman year in college still in the back of her mind. But Michelle couldn’t help how she felt, even if she tried to ignore it.

Attending the gala itself had been an afterthought, Michelle knowing that if Peter didn’t still feel slightly guilty for dropping SI - even if they all knew Pepper didn’t hold it against him - they wouldn’t have gone otherwise.

But Michelle relented, figuring a night to get drunk on expensive wine and make fun of the stuffy Wall Street types that always came to these thing with Peter was arguably a better plan than their usual nightly routine of watching Netflix and making fun of the characters on whatever stupid show he chose. 

Though now, Peter nowhere to be found - having been dragged off to meet some person or other at Happy’s request - Michelle reconsidered how good of a plan this had been. 

She’s slightly tipsy, just enough to let her guard down enough that she bumps into someone.

“Oh sorry, sorry.”

“That’s alright. You doing okay?” Michelle glances up.

Whoever she’s bumped into is smiling, an amused expression on his face as he looks at her up and down. It’s not unkind but there’s something in his eyes that immediately sets Michelle on edge, though part of her wonders if that’s the alcohol talking.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, just looking for my boyfriend.”

“Ah, well they do tend to run off during these type of events.” The man extends out a hand, Michelle studying it a beat too long before extending her own.

“Quentin Beck.”

“Michelle Jones.” 

“Michelle Jones from the Daily Bugle?” Quentin asks, shaking her hand firmly.

“Yeah, you’ve-you’ve heard of me?” _ Shit _, Michelle thinks - realizing that she’s a bit too drunk to make a good impression. 

Carly had - as she expected - forgiven her for Peter’s appearance in the office a few months back but Michelle wasn’t looking to push that forgiveness into new territory. 

Michelle winced, thinking of how it would look for Carly to get a call that one of her reporters had made a fool of herself at a public SI event. She wasn’t there to work but the Bugle already faced some heat for Jameson’s rants about Spider-Man.

Michelle wasn’t interested in adding fuel to the fire - especially considering that between the two of them, Michelle was easily replaced.

“I have, though I’m surprised they allowed press in.” 

Quentin’s tone is even, cautious in a way that doesn’t sit right with Michelle - as if he was trying to protect SI from her. The man in front of her couldn’t have known the relationship she had with Pepper and Morgan, didn’t know that Peter - Who was Tony Stark’s son all but in name - was tapped to follow in his footsteps, if he so chose. 

But Michelle’s mind is also cloudy, regretting that third glass of wine as she tries to steady herself.

“I’m not here as press, I’m here as… a friend. My boyfriend, Peter, he worked for SI part-time.” Michelle offers lamely. Even if she felt the irrational need to explain herself about her personal connection to Pepper and SI - a product of the alcohol, Michelle was sure of it - she knew how protective Peter was about the relationship. 

If more people knew just how close they were, Peter had reasoned, then it wouldn’t be hard for them to connect the dots about him being Spider-Man - something that he and Michelle both agreed was vital to keep under wraps.

“Peter as in Peter Parker?”

Michelle blinks, eyes narrowing. “Yeah... you know him?”

Quentin’s face breaks out into a smile, though something else flashes behind his eyes. If Michelle was sober, she thinks she’d be more aware - her instincts for people were impeccable and served her well in her work. But she wasn’t sober and all she could really do is concentrate on what Quentin said next.

“I do, your boyfriend and I work together at Columbia. Or well,” Quentin laughs as if there was some kind of an inside joke between them, “I mostly work for him. I’m a lab supervisor but Pete’s smart, has more ideas than our PI knows what to do with.”

“Oh.” Michelle blinks a few times, wishing more than ever that Peter was beside her. Michelle was confident in herself and her ability to schmooze, another trait that worked well when she was on assignment. But there was something disarming about being as drunk as she was and something discomforting about being around Quentin.

“He’s brilliant, though I’m sure you know that.”

“Yeah, really great. Have you seen him, by the way?” Michelle is done with the conversation, her stomach grumbling with either hunger or nausea - Michelle wasn’t sure. 

“I haven’t. But you know it’s funny, he’s never mentioned you before.”

Michelle just looks back at him, blinking stupidly at him.

“Okay? Haven’t heard about you either.”

Quentin just shrugs, a smirk that Michelle doesn’t trust on his face. 

“Oh that’s fine, I’m nobody. Just a co-worker.” Quentin leans in slightly. 

“But it’s interesting isn’t it, having worked with him this long and I never knew that he had a girlfriend.” 

Michelle’s mind is too rattled to try and make sense of why he’s bringing this up to her, a sinking feeling in her stomach that she’s not completely sure is the alcohol by this point. Quentin just shrugs again, patting her on the shoulder.

“I wouldn’t think too much of it.” He smiled again before walking away, leaving Michelle dumbfounded.

* * *

As the chicken sizzled, Michelle using a pair of tongs to flip it over, she tried to shake off the memory of that night again. She’d found Peter not long after that, who smirked at how drunk she was before they said their goodbyes and went home.

Sex that night had been frantic and rough, Michelle always a little more impatient when she was anything less than sober. But after when he cuddled up next to her, waiting for her to fall asleep - Michelle’s mind had gone back to that weird conversation - and the realization that she hadn’t told Peter about it.

There was nothing to tell she reasoned later, her hangover the next morning being at the forefront of her mind. What could she really say, other than one of his co-workers made her feel… weird? Awkward? Out of place?

Michelle hears the window open, looking out to see Peter - soaking wet as he slid into the living room, backpack in tow. She sees the call end as he steps in. 

In the weeks that had passed since then, Michelle never thought to bring it up because there never really was any reason to. 

Peter loved her, supported her, thought the world of her - and showed it to her in a million different ways. 

Even if he and Quentin had seemingly gotten closer now, Michelle didn’t think to bother Peter with something that felt like a non-issue - especially when Michelle had been a little too drunk to really figure out how and why she’d felt so unsettled in the first place.

“Floor’s wet.”

“So wipe it?” Michelle smiles as she hears Peter laugh, the squeaking from his suit as he walked into the kitchen setting her off.

“Uh uh, nope. Change, Parker. You smell like a wet dog.”

Peter comes up behind her anyway, Michelle rolling her eyes as his arms wrap around her - her entire backside getting wet from the rain still on his suit.

“Considering you won’t let us get a dog,” Peter says, his voice muffled as he kissed her neck, “Think of this as a compromise.”

“Compromise, my ass. You’re not the one who would end up taking the damn thing out for a walk anyway.” Michelle ignores him as he continues to leave soft kisses along her neck, sighing as Peter just pulled her closer against him.

“Missed you.”

“Missed you too. Now go take a shower, the food’s almost done.” Peter kissed her once more on the cheek before loosening his arms around her, Michelle glancing at him as he moved his hand into a salute.

“Yes ma’am.”

Michelle snaps a towel at him, Peter’s laughter carrying through the apartment as he walked towards their bedroom. 

As she heard the shower begin to run, the chicken in front of her almost finished - Michelle just solidified it for herself. 

Peter may not have talked about her at school - for whatever reason - but he didn’t have to. And she really didn’t have to take Quentin’s word for it anyway.

Peter loved her.

She loved him.

And that felt like enough. 

* * *

Michelle knew it was an inevitable part of growing up - especially growing together with someone else - that the issues and problems that a couple faced would only evolve. 

Before, when she was in high school - before Peter - she used to think of her life as a straight line, of well-intentioned plans that would take her from point A to point B. She used to hate the conversations she overheard from classmates, waxing poetic about how they would orient their lives around their partner’s plans.

Michelle had been convinced that that would never be her, that no man could ever dictate to her what she was going to do in her life.

And while she still felt that way - especially when dealing with Johnson, her asshole of a former boss - the reality of her life with Peter played out differently than what she had expected when she was fifteen. 

Peter was three months into his doctoral program now, reluctantly using his trust fund to help their bills - though if they downsized, Michelle knew they wouldn’t really need it. 

Michelle had no problems being the bread-winner, having accepted an offer to work full-time at the Bugle after graduation. They’d talked about it on more than one occasion - weighing out her and Peter’s pride in not wanting to touch the money Tony Stark had left for him, in agreement that it felt something like a handout, coupled with the hurt they knew Pepper would feel if they didn’t use it at all. 

For now, they were in the inbetween - Michelle’s paycheck covering the majority of their rent with Peter’s trust fund covering everything else. But there was another lingering thing in the back of her mind, a question of whether or not her original plans were still something she wanted to pursue.

In college, Michelle had always planned on going to grad school too - debating the merits of higher education and the rat race and elitism that went into academia - even in knowing that a selfish part of her still wanted to see those letters after name. 

But then her internship at the Bugle had turned into such a constant thing, the job offer so tempting that Michelle debated whether or not she actually wanted to get her Masters in Journalism when she had both a steady job and years more experience than half of her incoming classmates. 

The more she worked at the Bugle, the more Michelle considered law school, something she thought of on when she would report on some miscarriage of justice. 

All of it, the idea of law school or doing something more than just clocking hours at the Bugle - it wasn’t just about Michelle anymore. Just as Peter’s life was intertwined with hers, Michelle’s was entangled with his - something she had looked forward to for years, though the reality again played out differently than she had expected.

Peter had his hands full with his own program and with everything he did with Spider-Man, Michelle wasn’t interested in inadvertently placing another burden on him - the idea that he was somehow holding her back.

He wasn’t, Michelle knew that deep down. But she still got the feeling that Peter’s mind went there anyway - encouraging her to apply as the deadlines started to approach, much to Michelle’s exasperation. 

* * *

“I think you’d make a great lawyer, MJ.”

“You only think that because you never win any of our arguments.” 

Peter shoves her leg with his foot, making a face. 

“I think we _ both _ end up winning in the end.” 

“_ Do _ we?” Michelle smirking as Peter frowns, seeing the concern and slight panic in his eyes. 

“Relax Peter, I’m not faking it.” She laughs, seeing Peter visibly sigh in relief - even if the idea of him being so concerned about keeping her satisfied made her insides warm. 

“Usually.”

Peter balks before seeing the humor in her smile, sighing as he rolled his eyes.

“You’re a real ego killer, you know that?”

“It’s a part of my charm.”

“See,” Peter points a chopstick to her, Michelle laughing as he talked with his mouth full, “You already sound like a lawyer. Might as well make it official.” 

Michelle went silent as she watched Peter devour his general tsao, mulling over his words. 

Debating going to law school - it was so much more complicated than what Peter was making it out to be.

On the one hand, she knew they could afford it - though it would be at the expense of their pride to have to solely rely on Peter’s trust fund - something that Michelle knew Pepper would completely support, especially if it would help them in the long run. 

But on the other, Michelle had a sinking suspicion that she may not be good enough - seeing the stress that Peter, one of the smartest people she’s ever met, had about his own program. 

It was an old insecurity, comments that she’d get from her peers at the Bugle when she talked about what Peter studied at NYU and now at Columbia. 

She wasn’t jealous by any means, just slightly frustrated - as if everyone seemed to forget that she had gone to Midtown Science too. 

That, combined with the idea of both of them being stressed about school yet again - just a few months after graduating college - distracted her. 

It’s enough that later, when Peter was pressed up against her on their bed, slowly kissing the underside of her jaw - Michelle’s still thinking about it.

They could probably figure out their schedules, especially with the cushion of money coming in - though the idea of that _ still _ didn’t completely sit right with her. Especially since Peter had mentioned possibly moving closer to his lab, Michelle knowing that would throw out any plans of them minimizing their expenses.

There was also the problem of tuition, something loans would cover, though she knew her parents - and Pepper even - would be happy to help them with. 

But Michelle also liked having a paycheck, no matter how small - and she couldn’t get away from how helpless she’d feel being so reliant on everyone else. 

All that aside, the existential question of whether or not she was good enough - not only if it was worth her time but if she’d even make it in - still rattled her. 

“What’s wrong?” Peter murmurs against her neck, Michelle blinking a few times. 

“Hmm?” 

“You’re quiet. Been quiet all night. Something on your mind?” Peter brings his head up to face her, Michelle shaking hers as her hands traveled down his stomach. 

“Nothing, just tired.”

“We can watch a movie if you want, I saved another one of those documentaries that you like on Hulu.” 

Michelle’s palm meets the place she was going for, smiling as Peter sharply inhaled.

“No, not that kind of tired. Come on, I know you have to study tonight. Let’s just—“

“Michelle.” She stills, eyes looking into Peter’s at him using her full name.

She must really look distracted for Peter to pause, concern etched all over his face.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on in there?” Peter lightly taps his fingers against her temple, Michelle offering a smile as she continued to move against him, stroking her hand up and down. 

Peter groans, closing his eyes as he grits his teeth.

“MJ.”

“I’m fine, Peter. I promise.” She feels him harden against her palm, smiling as she leans forward to press her lips against his.

“Come on tiger, what are you waiting for?” Peter’s eyes open, searching hers.

Michelle can see him purse his lips, debating with himself whether or not he should let this go. It’s a conversation she knows they can’t put off, something they’d talked about in the last few weeks - a mutual understanding that they needed to start talking things out more. Especially about things that bothered them, things that could easily transform into real and legitimate problems. 

But then he seems to decide, Michelle sighing as he moves down past her waist and begins to use his mouth in a different way.

* * *

Michelle should’ve expected that Peter wouldn’t let it go - not that she wanted him to, but the idea of talking about their future life plans as the holidays approached was one of the last things on her mind. 

Peter was busier than he’d ever been, preparing for the conference paper he and Quentin were working on - Michelle knowing they’d be accepted, even if Peter still stressed about it.

Work hadn’t let up either, new instances of freaky and improbable wanna-be villains popping up and giving her - and Peter - hell. 

Their nights weren’t nearly as quiet as they had been at the beginning of his first semester, Peter flopping into bed more often than not as Michelle would rub his back - not bothering to tease him about how he seemed to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

He was tired, so was she. And it made Michelle more concerned about the possibility of pursuing law school - even if idea of it appealed to her more and more as time went on. 

She wanted to do it, she was sure of it - but Michelle wondered if it was the right time, though the idea of waiting until Peter was done with _ his _ program also didn’t feel like the right plan. 

Each night she’d think to bring it up, to let Peter know what was on her mind. She did, Michelle meant to. But then he’d come home exhausted, Michelle feeling the same - and the conversation would just keep getting pushed back. 

Later, Michelle would think that Peter’s confusion hadn’t been entirely misplaced - the result of a perfect series of unfortunate events. 

* * *

It started with Michelle mentioning off-hand that she was switching birth control.

Peter looked at her, pizza inches from his mouth. “Okay, is-is something wrong with your current one?”

Michelle shook her head. “Not really but my gyno mentioned there was another brand that might work better, since this one makes me feel so bloated half the time anyway.”

“You don’t _ look _ bloated.” Peter offers, shrugging as Michelle gives him a look.

“It’s not about looks, Pete, it’s about how I feel.” Peter puts a hand up, mouth full of pizza.

“Whatever you think’s best.”

And that had been that.

But the switch hadn’t been nearly as seamless as she had anticipated, Michelle telling Peter in passing that she had to wait a week or so before she could start the new one.

It hadn’t taken a full week, Michelle forgetting to tell Peter because of another deadline Carly had and Peter being too distracted with everything else to ask.

Michelle would think later that they had been fairly careful in the interim, only to remember a couple nights where that they hadn’t been - Peter stressed about exams and Michelle becoming increasingly annoyed about a coworker’s criticism of her articles, releasing the tension with each other.

In any other circumstances, in any other time period - it wouldn’t have mattered. But what followed next only made things worse.

* * *

Michelle never got sick usually - the change of weather never really bothering her before. Peter’s radioactive DNA also made him immune to whatever bugs passed through the city but later - much later - Michelle wondered if it had been stress, food poisoning, or a combination of both that made her sicker than she had ever been in years.

It was relentless, vomiting up anything she ate for a full week - Peter rubbing gentle circles on her back as he held back her hair.

She let him baby her, knowing from the look in his eyes that he hated feeling so helpless when she felt so sick - letting him draw her a warm bath, bring her soup, gently push back her hair as she tried and failed to sleep. 

She felt bloated, achy and shivery all the time - but was never congested, her throat only raw from how often she threw up. Michelle had an appointment with her gyno about the birth control - taking her vitals and a urine test just to see what was going on - but when she got the results back, her symptoms didn’t seem to match with any of the known side effects.

“Just keep an eye out, let me know if anything changes.” Michelle had nodded into the phone, knowing the doctor couldn’t hear it before hanging up. 

It was annoying, a lingering vomiting spell that didn’t give her any rest as one week bled into two - and it didn’t help that the things Peter brought for dinner didn’t appeal to her in the slightest. 

Michelle had wondered off-hand if maybe she was pregnant, but since she was due to start her period any day now - and since the doctor hadn’t mentioned it from her testing - it didn’t seem likely. 

She’d bought a test anyway, taking it at work and confirming what she already knew. 

Michelle should’ve known that Peter - whose very existence was an improbability - would’ve jumped to the wrong conclusion. 

* * *

“Peter, do we have any more of that ginger ale?”

Michelle wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, walking into the living room. 

Peter’s leg bounced up and down, wringing his hands together.

“Pete?”

His head snapped up, eyes looking slightly frantic though Michelle could tell he was trying to be calm.

“Um, we need to talk.”

“Okay…” Michelle said, walking towards the kitchen - only to be stopped by Peter’s hand.

“I’m, uh, I’m sorry I’ve been so distant lately, busy.”

Michelle’s eyebrows furrowed, going to sit beside him on the couch.

“We’ve both been busy, Pete. It’s been a stressful few months.” Michelle brought her hand to his, hoping she was being as comforting as she wanted to be even as her stomach still rolled. 

She had finally felt like she was on the mend, only to let herself be talked into eating sushi with Joanna, her second favorite coworker. 

Joanna was definitely demoted to third favorite now, Michelle already cursing her in her mind at the idea that she’d have to spend another night vomiting her guts out. 

“Yeah, I know, I know and I haven’t been here for you, not like I usually am.” Peter bit his lips, turning to face her.

“But I’m gonna fix that. You-you’re my priority, MJ and if you want to pursue law school then it shouldn’t be on you to change your plans just for me.”

Michelle wasn’t sure where the conversation was heading but this wasn’t at all what she had expected, completely blindsided by his next statement.

“I’m gonna drop out of my program, put it on hold till next year.” 

“The fuck? What do you mean you’re gonna drop out? What about the conference paper? Your research?” Michelle shook her head, bewildered as Peter just straightened his jaw.

“None of that matters, not as much as you.”

“Peter, I don’t—“

“You’ve been distracted for weeks, I knew something was on your mind and I can’t believe I didn’t see it.” 

“See… what?”

Peter swallowed, looking into Michelle’s eyes.

“Why you didn’t think you’d want to go to law school. I know you want to, I saw it in your eyes anytime I mentioned it. But then you’d just blow it off, pretend like it wasn’t a big deal. I mean it didn’t make sense, I talked to Ned and Quentin and it just, it didn’t click. But then you’ve been so sick lately and then I saw the test and it just, it hit me.”

Michelle’s mind is racing, trying to catch up to where Peter is going but the exhaustion and nausea prevented her from seeing the obvious.

“I can’t let you give up your dream for me, or for us, for…” Peter’s eyes glanced downward then back to her, “for anything.”

Peter takes her other hand into his, face firm as he continues. 

“I love you, MJ. And if me dropping out and taking on some hours with SI so we can have some money coming in for when the baby comes makes your decision easier, then I’ll do it.”

Michelle lets out a sharp laugh, the pieces finally clicking into place. 

“The _ what _?”

Peter pauses, running his thumb across the back of her palm. “The baby, I mean, I know it’s soon, sooner than either of us planned but we, we can make it work. We always do.”

Michelle closed her eyes, shaking her head at how much she simultaneously loved him and yet felt completely exasperated. 

“Peter, what the hell are you talking about?”

“I mean it, Michelle, I do. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and if this,” Peter tightens his grip in her hands, “is the first step to that then, let’s do it.” 

Peter freezes - eyes widening, Michelle biting back a laugh as she watched him suddenly scramble.

“I mean, unless you don’t, don’t want to--I’m such an idiot, I didn’t even think if you’d even _ want _ to be--”

“Peter, I’m not pregnant.”

Peter pauses, the panic in his eyes shifting to something more like confusion.

“You’re-you’re not?”

Michelle can’t hold it back now, laughing harder than she has in months at how bewildered Peter looked.

“Peter, come _ on _. Do you think I’d keep something like that from you?”

Peter’s mouth is open, closing it before opening it again. “But you’ve, you’ve been so sick? And I know there was some weird shit going on with your birth control and then for you to be so hesitant about law school it just—“

Michelle shook her head, laughing though the surge of love that flowed through her outweighed anything else. 

Peter - her idiotic, incredible dumbass of a boyfriend, the love of her life - had been so convinced that she was pregnant that he was willing to throw away his whole future, willing to put aside his dreams just so she could fulfill hers - all in preparation for an imaginary baby that wasn’t even there. 

If Michelle wasn’t already convinced she’d spend the rest of her life with him, a part of her thinks that this moment alone would have convinced her. 

“I think it’s just a stomach bug, or food poisoning, I don’t know.” Michelle laughs, softly this time as she brought a hand to his face.

“I’m not pregnant.”

“But, the test-- I saw the box in your purse and--” Michelle winces, remembering that she hadn’t thrown it away at work, knowing one of her more nosy coworkers would’ve jumped to the same conclusion Peter clearly had. 

“I took it just to be safe, but the doctor basically confirmed it.”

It seems to finally settle on Peter, his shoulders slightly slumping.

“You’re not pregnant.”

“Nope.”

Peter leans back on the couch, Michelle snuggling closer to him. 

“But then, why… why don’t you want to apply to law school?” 

It’s not when she’d anticipated having the conversation, nor the leadup she had built up in her mind but considering how much mental hell Peter had just been through, Michelle figured she could give him this. 

“It’s… it’s a lot of things, Pete.” Michelle sighs, leaning her head back against his shoulder. 

“Like what?”

“Like… like you, you’re so stressed about everything, more than I’ve ever seen you before and if _ you’re _ struggling than I don’t know how--”

“Okay but that’s different.”

“Peter.” 

“No, MJ look at me.” She does, Peter turning to face her. 

“You know I have a whole other side-gig right? Bug boy, as you like to call him?” Michelle rolls her eyes as Peter continues. 

“I get so worried about making deadlines because I’m having to run out of class half the time, begging professors to let me catch up on shit I missed because some jackass with an electrical jetpack wants to light up some buildings on Fifth.” 

“Oh.” Michelle watches as Peter shakes his head. 

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? Do you really think you wouldn’t kick ass in law school? You’re amazing, MJ, in every way.”

Michelle poked him in his ribs, seeing the smile on his face. “You’re obligated to say that because we’re dating.”

“No, I’m obligated to say it because it’s a fact. Truth above all else, right?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Michelle waved her hand in the air before wrapping it around his waist. “You don’t have to remind me about Miller’s ethics class.” 

Michelle brings her feet off the floor, curling them under her as Peter goes to wrap his arms around her. 

“It’s not just that, Peter. It’s… the money, the time. All of it. I mean, do I really want to get back into school again so soon, especially when you’ll be in it too? We just graduated, shouldn’t I take a break?”

Peter sighs, laying his chin above her head. “I mean, we can figure all of that out if it’s what you want, MJ. If you want to do it now, we’ll do it now. If you want to wait, we’ll wait. I just want you to feel like you have options, like you don’t feel stuck in your life.”

Peter doesn’t say the words but Michelle can hear them anyway.

_ So you don’t feel stuck with me. _

Michelle would give anything to be stuck with Peter for the rest of her life, a part of her heart breaking at the thought that Peter somehow doubted how much she wanted to be with him. It hit her then that for all her own hidden insecurities and anxieties about the future, that maybe Peter had a few of his own he had yet to share. 

It’s quiet for a moment, Michelle settling into his chest - hearing his heartbeat thrum in her ears. The sound of it makes her laugh again, feeling Peter’s head move.

“What?”

“I can’t believe you thought I was pregnant. Don’t you have super-hearing? Wouldn’t you hear a heartbeat before I did?”

Peter’s silence just makes her snicker, nestling her head back into his chest.

“For someone so smart, you really do act like a dumbass sometimes, you know that?”

Peter laughs, Michelle feeling his arms wrap around her tighter. “Yeah, yeah, so you always tell me.” 

It’s silent for another beat before Peter speaks up.

“We’d be badass parents though.”

Peter moves his arms, motioning for her to look back at him.

Michelle’s not sure if it’s the slight undercurrent of nausea from the bad sushi, the complete misunderstanding that Peter had had about why she wasn’t sure about law school, or just the realization of how much she loved the idiot in front of her - but Michelle was thrown at how much love was in his eyes, a deep and overwhelming sense of peace in knowing that the man in front of her was someone she was not only meant for or destined to be with - but one that she’d willingly choose to be with, every single day of her life. 

“Yeah, Pete. We would.” 

As Peter brings his hand to her chin, bringing her lips to his in a kiss that felt both gentle and fierce, Michelle’s convinced more than ever of what she already knew to be true. 

She knew she’d have to make a decision about law school sooner rather than later, knew that the stress and worry of their life together wouldn’t really get any easier the older they got.

But as the kiss deepens, Michelle feels lighter than she has in weeks. 

Even though the next few months - few _ years _ \- seemed unclear, Michelle knew that it didn’t matter. 

So long as she had Peter, and she felt certain now more than ever than she always would, Michelle knew that everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to positivelyglowing for the galaxy brain pun that is this chapter title - she used it for her Juno AU which you absolutely must read!!!
> 
> And yeah, Peter & MJ aren’t gonna be parents... yet.
> 
> But they have other things to watch out for. 
> 
> :)


	4. Pressure Points.

“Hey MJ, did you see my text?” 

“About…?” Michelle rifles through her purse, fingers tapping against it as she looked around the couch. She knew she’d left behind her leather journal somewhere around the living room last night, a Christmas present from her dad, but Michelle’s mind was blanking on where it could be. 

_ This is why I keep everything in the same place. I can’t get on to Peter for leaving shit around when I can’t even keep my shit together. _

“About meeting at Pepper’s place tonight, for Morgan’s birthday party.” 

Michelle bites her lip, moving a couch cushion. “I thought her birthday was next week.”

“It is,” Peter walks in from the bedroom, Michelle glancing back to see him wiping his hair with a towel. “Pepper’s gonna take her to Disney World on the actual day but still wanted us all to get together if we could.” She sees his eyebrows furrow as she turns her attention back to the couch.

“You looking for loose change or...?”

“I’m looking for that journal I was writing in last night, the one my dad gave me?” 

“Oh yeah,” Peter’s tone causes her to turn her head, watching as he goes for their bookshelf and takes a book out. 

He walks up to her - leather journal in hand - and smiles. 

“I saw it laying out last night while you were brushing your teeth and thought I’d put it up.” 

Michelle rolled her eyes but smiled. “Since when did you get so good about picking up after yourself?”

“Since my beautiful and perfect girlfriend told me how much it bothered her. And besides,” Peter smirks, “It wasn’t really picking up after myself so much as picking up after _ you _. I mean really, MJ, we gotta talk about how messy you’ve been lately.” 

Michelle smacks his arm, Peter laughing as she moves past him, grabbing her purse and heading for the door. 

“So is that okay?”

“Hmm?” Michelle slides a hand through her jacket, turning back to Peter as he looks back to her. 

“About going to Pepper’s tonight? I figured you’d say yes but I hadn’t told Pepper yet, just in case you--” 

“Of course, Pete, it’s Morgan’s birthday.” Michelle zips up her jacket, smiling back to Peter who walks up to her - bringing his hands around her waist. 

She kisses him - quick but firm as he straightens her jacket collar. 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

* * *

Michelle had always admired Pepper Potts, long before she knew her personally. Though she never met Tony Stark, Michelle knew from the countless stories that Peter had told her about him that he was a man who had loved his family so fiercely that he’d sacrificed everything to make them whole again. 

She’d never really cared for Tony Stark in his life, no matter how much Peter had seemingly been enamored with him before the Blip. But after - knowing now what she did for his part in saving the universe, the mentorship and father-son relationship that he and Peter had clearly had - made Michelle think that if they’d actually had the chance to meet, they would’ve gotten along. 

But since she couldn’t know Tony, she could know the people he loved.

It’d been now almost seven years since the Blip, the world having readjusted in a way that still made Michelle’s head spin. But the loss of Tony in Peter’s life was something that she knew would never be forgotten, nor would she ever want it to - knowing just how many people Peter had lost in his life.

The memory of their first conversation about it, on a rooftop somewhere in Queens after Michelle’s tango with a mugger, never left her mind for long in the moments when she was with the three of them - watching Peter as he laughed with Pepper and joked with Morgan.

Peter had lost so much in his life and even if he didn’t express it in so many words, Michelle knew it was a worry that never let him fully relax. 

Michelle did her part in trying to ease his worry, though their newest - most frequent - argument now revolving around her insistence on covering the villains of the week that Peter encountered. 

It was an unresolved tension, one that Peter had tried to distract her from - even as Michelle, who after the whole pregnancy debacle, was insistent more than ever that they should discuss things openly. 

* * *

“Peter, don’t walk away from me.”

“I’m not _ walking _ away from you, I’m getting something to drink.” He answered, slamming the refrigerator door a little too harshly. Michelle winced as Peter sighed, wondering if they’d have to replace yet another appliance. 

She knew Peter had unimaginable strength, her questions in their earlier days about his strength and full-range of her powers something she didn’t think about much now. Peter didn’t deal with sensory overload as much as he had before but it was moments like this, when they were arguing - especially about something Peter felt strongly about - that reminded her that Peter never really had the opportunity to let go, to fully let himself feel whatever it is that he needed to without risking hurting anyone around him. 

“Really? You just downed like a gallon of that stupid Arizona tea you like.”

Peter gave her a look, one that Michelle knows to mean that he’s just stalling - trying to avoid this conversation. 

“And now I’m thirsty again. Is that a crime?” Michelle rolled her eyes.

“No, Peter but if you don’t stop and listen to me--”

“I _ am _ listening to you, MJ. What I’m not going to do is agree with what you’re doing.” Peter pinched the bridge of his nose, Michelle watching as his hands shook. 

“You have to trust me, Peter.”

“It’s not--” Peter cuts himself as he puts his hand down, looking back at her. She sees the familiar look in his eye, knowing the desire is there - to distract her, make her forget about what they’re arguing about, put it off for another time. But even when he walks up to her, kissing her fiercely, Michelle leans into it for a second before backing up - Peter sighing in frustration.

“No, Peter. We talked about this. We need to _ talk _\--”

“We _are_ talking. We can talk in bed. We make all our best decisions during sex anyway.”

Michelle shook her head, putting a hand to Peter’s chest as he backed away - Michelle seeing the warring emotions all over his face. 

She can tell that he _ does _ want to talk about this with her, wants to share what he’s feeling and thinking. But Michelle also knows Peter well enough by now to know that he keeps everything bottled up, keeps things close to his chest because of the fear that he’s burdening others - one that Michelle had hoped that by now, years and years of being with him - would teach him otherwise. 

“Peter.” Michelle says, her voice soft as she sees Peter’s shoulders sag - knowing he’s lost. 

“MJ, I don’t… I don’t want you out there.” 

“It’s my _ job _, Peter. It’s what I do, I search for the truth. Talk about what’s happening.” Peter takes her hand into his, Michelle seeing as he grits his teeth.

“You can search for the truth, literally any other truth that’s out there but you insist on putting yourself in a position where you can get hurt.”

“Like _ you _ don’t?”

Peter groans, closing his eyes as he shakes his head. “It’s different, MJ.”

“How is it different? And don’t you dare say it’s because of your powers, Pete because I promise you--”

“But it is, it _ is _ different.” Peter’s eyes open, Michelle caught off-guard by the tears in them. It reminds her again of that conversation on the rooftop, the worry Peter had of her getting hurt. 

She knows it’s from a place of love, knows that he just wants to watch out for her - wants her to be safe. But they’ve been together almost eight years - had meshed their lives so perfectly and felt so intertwined that Michelle couldn’t see a world where she wasn’t connected to Peter Parker. 

Yet it’s an argument that they’ve been having since the first started dating, one that Michelle knows that if they don’t reach some kind of resolution, it’ll lead to their undoing. 

“You have to trust me.”

“I trust--”

“You say it, you say you do, but you don’t.” Michelle lets go of Peter’s hand, bringing hers to his face instead. 

“This, right here, what you’re feeling right now? The panic? That all-consuming terror at the idea of me being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Getting myself killed?”

Peter blinks, Michelle hearing his breath shudder as she continued. “That is how I feel, _ every single time _, you walk out that door.” Michelle’s own voice wavers but she swallows it down, forcing herself to press forward.

“Anytime you wear the suit, anytime you call me saying you’re going to be late, anytime I get an alert from Sam that’s something going on…” Michelle shakes her head, her eyes searching Peter’s. “It’s terrifying, Peter. I can’t breathe, it’s like I can’t think, like I lose my damn mind worrying that I’m going to lose you.”

The memory of when she almost did comes back to her, willing herself to stare into Peter’s brown eyes and not go back to that awful day, to not go back to the moments when she’d stared into Peter’s eyes, knowing he wasn’t seeing her. 

Michelle blinks back a tear, feeling it fall down her cheek as she sighs. “I love you, Peter. With everything in me. But you can’t tell me to stop, can’t tell me that you don’t want me out there if you are not willing to do the same for me.” 

Peter’s eyes are searing into hers, knowing he’s about to say something before she stops him. 

“And that’s just it, Peter. I would never ask you to do it. _ Never. _” Her hands shake, putting more pressure on his face as his arms wrap around her waist. 

“I know that Spider-Man’s a part of you. Just like you know that doing this, reporting, it’s a part of me.” Peter lets a soft exhale, bringing his head down to meet hers as she closes her eyes. 

It’s quiet, Peter’s breathing a little unsteady as Michelle softly runs her thumb across his cheek before he speaks.

“I can’t lose you, MJ. I can’t--I’d be lost without you.” Peter whispers as he holds her tighter.

“And I can’t live without you, Peter. I can’t, I _ won’t. _” Michelle replies, bringing her lips to his. 

It’s a softer kiss, Michelle knowing that this wasn’t the end of the conversation.

But it was a start. 

When Peter finally breaks the kiss, he softly brushes his nose against hers before leaning back, MIchelle opening her eyes. 

“I love you, MJ. You have to know that, you have to know how much.”

Michelle moved her arms to wrap around his neck, smiling. “I do. I love you too, Pete. But we can’t keep doing this.”

Peter doesn’t say anything, Michelle already seeing the storm behind his eyes. Michelle knows that he will always try to protect her, that it’s what he would always do. 

Michelle isn’t foolish enough to say that she doesn’t need it or want it, her own young ideas of what it meant to be independent and strong transformed over time. But she wished that Peter understood - even if tonight it looked as if he started to - how much she wanted to protect _ him _.

That putting herself out there, following the stories of what was happening in New York wasn’t just about her career or making a name for herself, wasn’t just about seeking the truth and making it known - it gave her the opportunity to be just as in it as Peter was, to have more of a role in what he did than to be filled with fear and worry, waiting at home for a call that she’d beg the universe would never come. 

A call where someone would tell her that they were sorry. A call that would tell her that her world was gone. 

She can’t do it again, Michelle knows what it feels like - knows the desolation and the agony of living in a world without Peter Parker, even it only been a few minutes - and she’ll do everything in her power to prevent that. 

And if that includes following stories about what he faces, exposing people and their lies to the people of New York - a small step in demystifying the evil in the world and keeping him that much safer - than she’d do it in a heartbeat.

* * *

It’s that conversation that comes back to her as they arrive at Pepper’s place, Morgan running up to Peter when they arrive. 

“Pete!” 

“Hey Mo, happy birthday!” Morgan smiles, throwing her arms around him in a hug that makes Peter laugh and Michelle smile. Morgan finally lets go and gives Michelle a hug, one that she gladly returns. 

“Happy birthday, Mo.”

“Thanks, MJ. Come on, Uncle Happy’s drunk and he’s telling funny stories about Pete again.”

“Oh great.” Peter says sarcastically, Michelle smirking as Morgan takes his hand and drags them towards where everyone else was. 

It was nice, a quiet birthday party for a larger than life person. Michelle didn’t know Tony Stark but knowing his daughter - her frenetic energy that came out when she was excited, gesturing with her hands and rolling her eyes - made her reminisce the memory of a man that she never got the chance to know. 

She saw Pepper in Morgan too, the thoughtful way she’d approach conversations - the way she’d evaluate a room or a person, knowing exactly what to say before the other had even hinted that something was going on. 

It’s that trait that Michelle’s reminded of when Pepper walks up to her during the evening, Morgan happily distracted with Peter and Happy, the latter of which amusingly drunk. 

“You doing alright, Michelle?”

Michelle nodded, smiling as she folded her arms and glanced at Peter and Morgan. 

“Yeah, I’m good. How are _ you _? Twelve years old, just one more year till Morgan’s a teenager.”

Pepper laughs. “Don’t remind me. You and James both, I swear.” 

Michelle’s gaze is still on Peter, feeling the nudge from Pepper’s arm as she turns to her. 

“You sure there’s nothing you want to talk about? I heard from May that you got a promotion at work?”

Michelle nodded. “I did, taking a new direction. My boss thinks it’s a great idea, makes the Bugle stand out from the other papers.” 

She sees Pepper get a look in her eye, tilting her head as she studied Michelle. It was something that felt odd, if only for the fact that it was a look that Michelle had given to so many people in her life - never realizing just how vulnerable it made a person feel. 

“What does Peter think about that, your new direction?” 

Michelle sighs, wondering that for all her journalistic prowess, if she’ll ever be at the same level as Pepper - the thought occurring to her that she couldn’t be nearly as successful in business if she didn’t have this easy way of reading people. 

“He’s… not so happy about it. It’s the kind of direction that puts me right on the ground, writing stories on the things Peter deals with.” Michelle finally answers, Pepper nodding as if it was something she expected.

“None of the papers really discuss it in detail, but if we do, the Bugle could really make a name for itself.”

“And so could you.” Pepper offers, Michelle nodding.

“Yeah, which is great but on the other hand, kind of puts a massive target on my back.” Michelle chews on the inside of her cheek before saying, “Not that it’s any more of a target that Peter has.”

They turn to stare at Peter for a moment before Pepper speaks again.

“You know, Tony and I used to have a similar argument.”

Michelle looks back to her, watching Pepper as her eyes seem to get lost in a memory.

“He was so intent on saving everyone, he sometimes forgot what it was like to be the one left at home. Of what it was like to wait, powerless as you watched the person you love fly off into the sky.”

Michelle watches as Pepper’s eyes start to water before she smiles, looking back to her.

“You already know Peter will never stop worrying about you. And seeing from the look in your eyes, I don’t think you’ll stop worrying about him.”

Michelle waits as Pepper presses forward. “It’d be so much easier for you two if one of you stopped.”

“I can’t—“ Pepper puts a hand up.

“I know, I’m not saying you should. It’s a great thing you’re doing, Michelle. Not just for your career, but for him, even if he’s having a hard time seeing it.”

She looks back to Peter, Michelle still watching Pepper.

“But you two have to come to figure this out. Sooner rather than later.” Pepper smiles once more, locking eyes with Michelle.

“He wants to marry you, Michelle.” 

Michelle nods, feeling the pit in her stomach relax slightly. “Yeah, I know. We’ve— we’ve talked about it.”

“I’m sure you have. But think about this, you can’t walk into a marriage with a hand tied behind your back. Either of you.” Pepper tilts her head, nodding towards Michelle.

“What he wants matters. What_ you _want matters.”

“But what if what we want is… the opposite? He wants to keep me locked away at home and I just, I_ can’t _do that. I can’t let him face the things that he does alone. Not anymore. Did you hear about this Mysterio bullshit? Some guy creating illusions, making people think Spider-Man robbed a bank?” Michelle asks, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from Pepper anyway.

“I have and I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but you both have to figure out how to reconcile this between you. I realized I could never stop Tony from doing what he did and…” Pepper trails off, Michelle watching as a shadow passed over her face before she said, “It’s something I wished I could. But you two, you have a chance to figure this out, not make the same mistakes that we did.”

Pepper smiled even as Michelle saw the tears in her eyes, the warmth in her voice undeniable. “If anyone can figure it out, I know you two can.”

* * *

The walk back to their apartment is silent, Peter seemingly lost in his own thoughts just as much as Michelle. It feels as if they’re wandering aimlessly, Michelle knowing they should hurry to get home - knowing they both had to work in the morning. 

Michelle’s mulls over Pepper’s words, letting them wash over her as she thinks.

She loves Peter and knows that he loves her. The talk of marriage tonight is something that hadn’t been unexpected, knowing that it was coming - even if Michelle didn’t know exactly when and how he had planned it.

But Peter seemed to sense the same thing Michelle did, the same thing Pepper had brought up - that as much as they loved each other, as much as they both wanted to be together - they couldn’t willingly walk into the rest of their lives without coming to an agreement about this.

Yet the idea of either of them budging on this means that someone would have to compromise. And Michelle, seeing Pepper tonight - was reminded of who usually had to live with that compromise.

She loved Pepper and Morgan, loved having them in her life and how much they meant to Peter. She didn’t know Tony Stark but tonight reminded her of how much she _ could’ve _ loved him, had he been around to meet her.

It’s selfish to think of, knowing the depth of the sacrifice Tony gave to save the world - much less the universe. But it’s one that nags at her, one that she isn’t willing for Peter to make - not by himself. 

The idea of a lifetime with Peter, one that some certificate and a ring wouldn’t give her and yet something she knew would inexplicably change things - was seized by the idea that she _ wouldn’t _get to have a life with him, that some threat would take him away from her. Leaving her and whatever unknown and unnamed children behind to pick up the pieces. 

Going out, reporting on what he did - it made her feel as if she was putting herself at risk, but only in a way that was equal. Not to worry Peter or scare him or even try and make him understand how she felt - but to truly be _ equal _ to him - to have her hat in the ring just as much as he did.

She thinks of the words to say but it seems Peter’s mind is in the same place, beating her to the punch.

“Peter—“

“Morgan told me an interesting story tonight.”

There’s something in the tone of Peter’s voice that makes Michelle stop, Peter turning to face her with their hands still intertwined.

“She was talking to me about some assignment she had about her heritage, how everyone’s project talked about what their moms and dads do and you know what she said?” Peter bites his lip, searching Michelle’s face.

“She told me that she couldn’t really remember Tony anymore. That all her memories seem… mixed up. That she can’t tell what’s actually hers and what people have told her.”

Michelle is silent, watching Peter has his face falls.

“Everyone knows what Tony did but his own _daughter_ doesn’t know get to know him, not really. And I just, I get so angry, thinking about it. Thinking that I should’ve done something. That I should’ve—“

“There’s nothing you could’ve done, Pete. You know that.” Michelle whispers, holding his hand tight as she brings another to his face. It’s an old wound, one that she knows will never go away - reminding herself that before Tony there had been Ben, before Ben, his parents.

“I know, MJ but it’s just, it just hit me differently tonight.” He brings his free hand to cover hers cradling his face, Michelle seeing the tears in his eyes. “Made me think about the future. About… about us.”

Michelle feels the lump in her throat but says nothing, waiting to see where Peter was going to take this. She should be used to them being on the same wavelength by now, a feature of living together and of loving each other for so long. But even if she thinks - or hopes - she knows where his mind is going, Michelle let’s him say it all the same.

“I can’t stop being Spider-Man, MJ. I can’t, not when it’s in my power to save people.” Peter sighs, a low and deep exhale.

“But I also don’t want to repeat Tony’s mistakes.” Peter leans closer, moving his hands to her face. 

“I don’t want to ever leave you behind.” 

“Then let me be there with you, Peter. Let me _ help _you, the best way I know how.”

Peter’s lip trembles as his eyes bore into hers, Michelle seeing a thousand things running through them before it settles, kissing her so fiercely that Michelle can’t catch her breath.

It’s hungry, yearning - so intense that Michelle feels dizzy. When he finally break, she’s panting - her heartbeat hammering in her ears as he softly traces her cheek with his hand.

“I love you.” Peter whispers, pressing his forehead to hers. Michelle brushes her nose against his, kissing him softly before saying, “I love _ you _.”

The city feels quiet, an impossibility that Michelle knows can’t stay true for long. But then Peter leans back, Michelle opening her eyes as he smiles.

“So… you want to be my sidekick or something? Like, Spider… woman?”

Michelle lets out a sharp laugh, pressing her lips together - only to lose it again when she sees the sincerity in his eyes.

“_ No _, Peter. One freaky bug person who wears spandex in a relationship is enough.” She laughs, kissing him again.

”But I want to be there for you. I have to.”

Peter’s quiet for a minute before something in his eyes shift, a familiar stirring in her gut from the way he was staring at her.

“I don’t know, I’m kind of into costumes.” He whispers, Michelle smirking before she kisses him again, rolling her eyes.

“Well when I’m pitching another story about that mysterio guy, I’ll ask Carly if she wants me to go undercover.”

A mischievous smile lights up Peter’s face as Michelle grins, holding her hand tight as they walk towards the subway.

“I got a couple of ideas, you know, for practice. Some things you can test run with me.”

Michelle smiles, the laughter still bubbling within her as they walk just a little faster down the street. “I’m sure you do.”

And as they walk - headed home, together - Michelle feels as if they’ve crossed another threshold, another invisible line in their relationship.

Pepper’s words ring into her ears as the rush to the stop, hand in hand as she sees the love and desire in Peter’s eyes.

Life with Peter would never be easy, never simple - but as he sneaks a kiss, Michelle smiling through it - she knew that no matter what they’d be together. 

That her and Peter were equals, that her and Peter could take on the world.

That as long as they were together - side by side, hand in hand - that they could face anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing the [College AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20740904) has been a lot of fun but it is very nice to get back into a universe where they’re still idiots in love but KNOW that they’re idiots in love. 
> 
> We stan (1) couple who are (trying to be) open and honest in communicating and support each other wholeheartedly.
> 
> ...cause they’re gonna need it.


	5. Indecent Proposal.

The next few months pass by quickly, so much so that Michelle starts to long for the days when she  _ thought _ they’d been busy. 

Peter’s program doesn’t let up, he and Quentin’s acceptance and travel to the out of state conference objectively a good thing - even if Michelle started to wonder if the tension that started to grow between the two of them had to do with the paper they working on or the pressure Peter was facing as Spider-Man.

“Quentin says it’s not a big deal but I know it bothers him. And he’s right, I keep skipping out right when he needs me.” Peter ranted, Michelle just listening as she watched him pace back and forth. It was easier when he got like this, all rambling and hands shaking and pacing to just let him vent - Michelle knowing better than anyone that the few times Peter let himself loose was reason enough to listen. 

“It’s like anytime we’re supposed to meet with our PI, something happens in the city and I have to leave. Quentin keeps saying that he can handle it, that he doesn’t mind but I feel like an asshole, MJ. It’s not like I can  _ tell _ him why I keep bailing so it looks like I agreed to do this massive project only to keep pushing all the actual work onto him.” Peter sighed, sinking down into the couch as Michelle just waited - watching as he rubbed his hands across his face.

“At this point, he should be first-author, not me. He’s been working such long hours and I just don’t know if I can keep up. He’s tired all the time and I know it’s cause he’s staying up late, trying to get everything done before we head out.”

When Peter says nothing further, Michelle took the opening. “If it’s causing you this much stress, you know you can always pull out of the conference, Pete. Tell Quentin you just don’t have the time to—“

“I know, I know.” Peter sighed, shaking his head. “It’s not that I don’t have time, it’s that I’m not  _ making  _ time. I need to just… just figure out how to handle it all better.”

He leans back into the couch, laying his head back, face towards the ceiling as Michelle puts her book down. Peter looked exhausted, more so than usual - and it occurred to Michelle that there was more to it than grad school stress. But before she can say anything - like he usually did - he beat her to the punch. 

“Maybe getting away from the city for awhile might be a good thing. You know, with everything.” 

Michelle did know, grimacing at the new level of shit Peter seemingly had to deal with it.

Carly hadn’t been particularly enthused about Michelle’s new direction, but pressure from Jameson pushed it forward, giving her a promotion and the money to tackle it head first - and it seemed to be done just in time as new threats started to emerge in Peter’s life that Michelle could barely make sense of.

The Rhino idiot was still causing trouble, Michelle fuming at how Peter seemed to get hurt more and more when he fought him - though she wondered if that was because of Peter being exhausted anytime he went out to patrol rather than it being any indication of him being stronger than Peter. 

But it was the Mysterio bullshit that really got on her nerves, more so than anything else that Peter had fought against. It was so unimaginably  _ stupid _ , the shit this guy would get into - and yet after a few months of staging stupid fights with “Spider-Man”, it seemed that a not so insignificant part of the city really started to pay attention.

It had gone beyond faking robbing banks to framing him for bigger problems - setting fire to a building in the Bronx, making a bridge fail as cars were about to cross - things that made Michelle dread what would happen next.

Peter was able to solve the issues as quickly as he could - running himself ragged trying to make sure that despite whatever illusion had happened that the  _ real _ Spider-Man saved the day - even as some idiot in a fishbowl tried to orchestrate as if he was the one who was ending things. 

The fights between Mysterio and Spider-Man were things Michelle couldn’t make sense of - how anyone could immediately believe the words of a new “hero” when Peter had been saving the city for years, when to Michelle - Mysterio’s appearance during these problems just screamed being a little too convenient. 

But it was enough of a problem that even patrols started to give Peter more hell than usual, getting just as many heckles as he did praise and people - not just criminals - really going after him, to the point where there where whispers that city’s police chief considered putting out a warrant for Spider-Man’s arrest.

There were still people who supported Spider-Man, even if the number of those who didn’t seemed to double as the days passed. And yet for all of it, Michelle was there - reporting on everything. 

It was good for business in one sense, Michelle churning out articles like she was back in undergrad, writing papers for class - gaining experience on the ground and creating something of a name for herself among the city. Peter’s nickname had been said jokingly to her but anytime an article went out online, #SpiderStories started trending - and Michelle got referred to on more than one occasion as the “Spider-Woman” for as much as she wrote about him. 

Jameson argued that the branding was good for the Bugle, even if Carly protested that it was at the risk of putting Michelle in danger - overhearing their arguments in the office even as she headed out. And she wasn’t the only one concerned. 

The more Michelle got into it, the more agitated Peter seemingly got about the attention it gave her, not so much out of jealousy but concern that she would become even more of a target than he was. 

She knew he was happy in an objective sense and had been particularly appreciative of the bonus she’d gotten last month - but the toll of the worry he had about her just seemed to increase as time went on, something Michelle knew would be a lost cause in trying to stop.

It didn’t help Michelle got accepted to Columbia, good news that had led to them celebrating with May over dumplings and with each other alone in their apartment. But even during sex, Michelle could tell Peter was preoccupied - knowing that he simultaneously hoped her acceptance would push her to drop her work with the Bugle yet seemingly feeling guilty about thinking it, gently prodding her on when she would be quitting even as she kept pushing it off.

That had always been the plan, Michelle had reasoned - her mind still racing hours later as Peter snored beside her. Apply to law school, work at the Bugle until she knew whether she’d been accepted and then if she did - make the switch. It was something she’d leveraged in her personal statement, saying that her on the ground experience would give her first-hand knowledge of how to communicate with her future clients, a judge and jury.

But now, a by-line that meant something and the feeling that she was actually contributing something good to the world and to Peter -  _ now _ , not three years after she’d finished school - seemed too good to give up.

* * *

“MJ.” 

  
“Just hear me out, Peter.”

“I  _ am _ hearing you out. I know what you’re going to say and I don’t like it.”

Michelle rolled her eyes, sighing even as Peter dragged her forward towards May’s apartment, holding the bottle of wine that she knew was her favorite. Her boyfriend John was cooking his famed lasagna and the thought of it made Michelle’s mouth water. But arguing about this -  _ again _ \- before they arrived was quickly making her lose her appetite. 

“If you know what I’m going to say, then why even bother asking—”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Peter sighed, stopping before they knocked on May’s door. “I’m not—I don’t want to argue with you about this.”

“So don’t. Think about it, Pete. I’m making a real difference,  _ right now _ . How the hell am I supposed to stop doing that to what, go back to school?” 

Peter bit his lip, Michelle seeing the argument behind his eyes - knowing Peter all too well to expect what he was going to say. 

How Michelle was being short-sighted, thinking too much in the present - that their original plan was a good one, that they could make their schedules and the money work so that she could fulfill her dream. 

Michelle wasn’t stupid, she knew he would - and had already - made great points. But she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the back of her mind that it wasn’t just all these great ideas that was motivating Peter to push her back towards the original plan, a knowledge that for as much as he genuinely believed she would make a great lawyer - that he was also motivated by a desire to get her off the streets. 

It was a conflicting emotion, one that even Michelle could recognize that her own judgement was clouded by her need to want to help Peter - even knowing that in the long run, she would arguably make  _ more _ of a difference in the world by choosing to go to law school. 

But Peter was distracted, frustrated with everything that was happening in the city and she knew that his regular worry for her safety only magnified by her being there. Yet Michelle couldn’t live with herself if she let him face his issues alone, wanting to be there for him and having the skills to actually do it wasn’t something she wanted to give up. 

“I think you need to consider the future, MJ. Think about this for a second.”

“I  _ am—“ _

“No,” Peter stops her. “You’re not. You’re thinking about what you can do now and it’s just, it’s not like you, MJ. Why are you so insistent on staying in this  _ now _ ?”

As he always did, Peter got to the root of the problem without even having to probe - the light bulb going off even as Michelle bites her lip.

“Is this because of the Mysterio shit? MJ, we can’t put the rest of our lives on hold because of some jackass wearing a fishbowl.”

“It’s not just that. It’s all of it, Pete. The Bugle, the money, the time…” Michelle sighs, rubbing her eyes as she thinks. “It’s the worst time in the world to add on more stress.”

Peter doesn’t get to answer then, May answering the door - Michelle realizing they hadn’t knocked but were likely talking so loud that May and John had overheard them. She would be more embarrassed if May’s presence wasn’t immediately disarming, her whole face lighting up at seeing the two of them.

“Hey guys, come in! John says the lasagna is almost ready. Ooh is that the  _ primitivo _ ?” May asks, her hand gesturing to the wine bottle in Michelle’s hand. She lets Michelle take it, meeting Peter’s eye as they walk in after her - May chattering about when she studied abroad as she usually did when John cooked Italian.

It was a look that signified that the conversation wasn’t over, but that they both knew it had to wait - knowing that for as much as they disagreed, bringing May into it would just worry her more than either Peter or Michelle wanted her to be.

Even what Peter did as Spider-Man terrified Michelle, May’s health issues in recent years made the two of them more inclined to keep from her things that would stress May beyond what she already did.

The cancer scare had been just that - a scare - but it made the burden that Peter carried about the people he loved that much stronger, a burden that Michelle tried to help him with - talking him down late at night, holding him - anything to help in any way that she could. 

Listening to May talk over dinner, both John and Peter smiling at her - Michelle wondered what May’s thoughts would be about their situation, knowing that if it was anything else - if it wasn’t so intimately tied up with Peter acting as Spider-Man - she’d ask her in a heartbeat. 

Michelle knew she could always ask her own parents, being as vague as possible even if she had a suspicion that neither of them were as ignorant of Peter being Spider-Man as they pretended to be. It was something the two of them put off - telling them that Peter was Spider-Man - Peter wondering off-hand a few months ago if they could go the rest of their lives without sharing it. 

Michelle agreed, if only because she knew having two  _ more _ people know his secret identity would cause him even more stress - something she was content to put off for as long as possible, maybe until they finally got married.

However when Peter and John were doing the dishes, May holding her third glass of wine in her hand, sitting on the couch across from Michelle - she should’ve guessed that time would be coming sooner than she thought.

“Has he asked you yet?”

Michelle’s eyebrows furrowed, smirking at how tipsy May was. Her favorite wine also happened to have an extremely high alcohol content, something Michelle had joked to Peter before that if she had been their ages - May would’ve been her best friend in college. 

“Asked me…?” Michelle questioned, glancing towards the kitchen. Peter seemed completely engrossed in his conversation with John, knowing that for as much as his hearing could pick up things half-way across the city - he had honed it well enough to focus on the task at hand when he needed to.

And while Michelle didn’t think May was about to share anything that Peter didn’t already know, she considered it might be something May wanted to keep a surprise for how she leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. 

“To marry you. He’s had the ring for ages but he mentioned last week he was thinking of doing it before summer.” May giggled, Michelle freezing.

It wasn’t a surprise exactly, they’d talked enough about marriage that she knew it was something that they both wanted and wanted soon. Michelle - even having an excellent example of it growing up - still argued that no certificate or fancy jewelry could somehow be a greater symbol to the commitment her and Peter had, that it couldn’t really capture how much they loved each other.

But there was a look in Peter’s eyes when they would talk about it - something Michelle could understand, only from the result of the years and years that she’s loved him. Marriage to Peter wasn’t about holding each other down or submitting to cultural norms, wasn’t a step to solidify a relationship that already felt rock-solid.

Peter wanted to belong to Michelle, in a way that showed just how much they loved each other to the world - an understanding that crossing that line meant something to him considering how few Parkers there were left in the world.

Michelle loved him and wanted to marry him, knowing how much it meant to him but also for how much she enjoyed the idea of it too. Of belonging to someone without being owned by them, having Peter be the person she would call home - that she would be the first person anyone would call about anything that happened to him.

What she didn’t expect was for Peter to be considering asking her  _ now _ \- with everything else going on - when the last time they’d talked about it, she thought they had decided that she would ask. 

“Fuck gender norms.” Michelle had quipped, Peter smirking as he kissed her. He seemed to be in agreement and Michelle put a reminder in her head to make a plan for it, do something romantic that she knew Peter would appreciate. 

But then everything with Mysterio happened. And it seemed that Peter was tired of waiting around for her to get to it.

“Um, no he—he hasn’t.”

May sobers up at that slightly, Michelle smiling at how wide her eyes got.

“Oh shit. Oh shit, I spoiled the surprise didn’t I?” May gasped, Michelle stifling a laugh. 

“No, no surprise. We talked about it happening before the end of the year but—“

“Shit. Shit. Shit, I’m sorry, Michelle.” May started babbling, Michelle reaching a hand out to rest on May’s arm, winking.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” May blinks then smiles again, nodding as if Michelle had just confirmed a state secret. 

“Okay.” May whispers back to her, Michelle catching Peter’s eye as he and John walked back into the living room. 

“What won’t you tell?” John asked, Peter’s eyes dancing between the two of them. 

“What May’s thinking of getting Peter for his birthday. I keep telling her that the Yoda action figure she found online is perfect but she keeps saying that since he’s going to be twenty-four that it’s ‘too kiddish’ or something.”

John and Peter both laughed, only for Peter to stop - Michelle smiling at how serious he looked.

“Wait, what year is it from? Has it been opened? What kind of—“

“You’re just going to have to wait and see, Pete.” Michelle shrugged, making another mental note to send May the link to the toy she had found over her lunch break a few weeks back.

She’d been planning on buying it herself for Peter’s birthday, even if it was months away - knowing how much he still loved collecting the damn things.

But as Peter smiled, Michelle’s mind went back what May had actually shared with her - wondering what Peter was thinking and the timing of it all. Before the Mysterio shit, this had been part of the plan - just like going back to school, just like her quitting the Bugle.

Life never seemingly went according to plan for the two of them, but Michelle still wondered just what the hell he was thinking - adding in a wedding, one she knew he would actually want to have - when their lives didn’t look as if they were ever going to let up.

* * *

Michelle never got the chance to ask.

She planned to talk to him the next day, after work - knowing that any chance of a good conversation after their dinner with May would’ve been shot when he stumbled into the apartment half-asleep.

But then when Michelle was at her desk, editing an article - Carly burst into her office, catching her off guard.

“What—“

“Where the hell have you been?” Carly almost yelled, her eyes wide even as Michelle looked back at her dumbfounded.

“I’ve been—“

“I thought… I thought you were out. You didn’t answer your phone and no one had seen you.” Carly pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a deep breath before she continued. 

“Spider-Man and Mysterio are fighting off the Brooklyn Bridge. There’s something going on, but no one has been able to make sense of what’s happening.”

Michelle immediately goes to stand, though the action of it makes her realize that from the way Carly is standing - almost blocking her door - that this wasn’t a case that she wanted Michelle to get on the ground for.

“What should we do? Is anyone there?” Michelle asks anyway, finally reaching for her phone - having turned it on silent and put it face down to allow for no distractions. What she sees makes her stomach drop, seeing a smattering of news alerts as well as several alerts from Peter’s suit - ten missed calls and several voicemails. 

She wants to immediately check and see what’s going on, her heart pounding in her ears but Carly’s still in front of her, her voice coming back into focus. 

“No one’s close enough to see what’s happening, only that from one minute to the next, it looked like some fire monster was going to crash into the bridge, only for it to now look like some kind of… army of drones.”

“Drones?” Michelle asks, trying to keep her voice steady as she scrolled through her phone - checking online to see if anyone had spotted something useful.

Cary was right, even people close to the bridge seemed confused as to what was going on - doing nothing for the surge of panic in Michelle’s gut. 

She needs to hear Peter’s voicemails, her whole body aching to let him know that she’s okay. But she can’t, not yet. 

“Okay, well we can—“

“ _ We _ aren’t doing anything. This isn’t something I want you close to, Michelle.”

Michelle looks up, seeing the determination and resolve in Carly’s face as she closes Michelle’s door behind her. 

“Why? I’ve been in everything—“

“And I regret that. Jameson wanted more for the Bugle and to be honest, I wish I had put my foot down.” Carly grounds herself, standing up straighter.

“I’m doing it now. I don’t want you out there, Michelle.”

Michelle feels conflicted, worried about Peter, the need to know what’s happening for herself and her confusion at Carly’s sudden obstinance.

“Carly, I need to go.”

“Like hell.” Carly’s voice is hard, firm as she stares Michelle. “I’ve let you do this for far too long.”

“It’s… it’s not for work. It’s a family emergency.” Michelle’s mind races, thinking of something she can say to get her out of the office and to Peter - to the voicemail, to the bridge - anything to get her out of the office and towards the man who wasn’t just fighting for his life, but was was likely panicking that she hadn’t answered - something Michelle intimately knows that it could be a distraction that could all too easily become fatal. 

A flash of something almost like fear across Carly’s face for a second before her expression hardens once more. “Family emergency? Are you really going to try and pull that with me, Jones? You can’t go out there.” 

“Carly—“

“What would Peter think of this, Michelle?”

Michelle stops, freezing at her words even if she knows that Carly couldn’t know that’s exactly who she’s thinking of. It’s why she had to convince Carly to let her go, to see him, to make sure—

“I know.”

Michelle looks back, seeing the resolve in Carly’s face, mind racing.

“What?”

“I know who Peter is.”

Michelle’s throat feels dry, willing her face to be neutral as she says, “I don’t know what you—“

“Don’t try and bullshit me, Michelle. I know, I’ve known for years. Why else do you think I’ve been so against you following Spider-Man around the last few months?”

Michelle is at a loss, completely overwhelmed with equal parts panic and shock. She hadn’t really thought about much about why Carly opposed it if she was honest, just entirely more concerned about Peter and what he was dealing with. 

It seems obvious to her now, seeing the look of concern in Carly’s face anytime she’d bring up a story idea - the conflict that would be written all over her face at the idea that Michelle would be covering something right when it was happening. 

What she doesn’t understand is why she wasn’t letting her leave  _ now _ \- why today was any different.

Unless Carly knew more than what she was letting on.

“Is he okay?” 

It comes out like a whisper, Michelle seeing the way Carly grinds her teeth. She knows it - even without saying, that she’s right. Even if they couldn’t see the fight or knew the extent of what was going on, that it was bad enough that she wouldn’t allow Michelle to go down there - knowing that it would put her at risk in a way that terrifies her. 

Because if it would put Michelle at risk, that means that Peter already is. 

“I have to go, Carly.”

But Carly doesn’t get the chance to argue, both of their phones suddenly going off. Carly’s eyes widen just as Michelle’s stomach drops again, the wind being knocked out of her. 

It’s a news bulletin - not from the Bugle but from the Times - black words emblazoned across her cell phone screen, words that haunt her. 

**SPIDER-MAN KILLS MYSTERIO IN COLD BLOOD**

* * *

The newsroom is in chaos, Michelle hearing Jameson yelling from his office as they both rush out. 

Michelle had started to scroll through social media just to see it, multiple viewpoints of ‘Spider-Man’ shooting Mysterio - straight in the chest, something that Michelle knows that Peter would  _ never _ do, no matter what. 

But even if she knows that, even if it’s all a trick - that doesn’t take away from the panic and hell happening around her, the panic building that this was something that Peter would have a much harder time explaining to anyone that would listen.

And no one was listening - watching as the people around her seemed to be working in overdrive, even if rationally Michelle knew they should all be focused on their own respective stories. 

But it makes sense, even as Michelle’s mind races - thinking of how she can get out of there and get to wherever Peter. 

Even if Spider-Man was something Michelle was intimately and personally invested in, she remembers that to the world - he was a friendly neighborhood hero. She hadn’t really listened to the office gossip surrounding everything that was happening with Mysterio, but from what she could see now - the arguments she had written about in her articles were playing out in front of her in real time. 

Yelling that Peter - that  _ Spider-Man _ \- couldn’t have murdered Mysterio, no matter what the footage looked like, footage that Michelle knew couldn’t be real — no matter what kind of trouble Peter had been in. 

It’s something she can hear mirrored back in conversations around the newsroom, a swell of irrational pride that people were defending him - even if Michelle can also hear some measure of doubt.

“The video says it all, Darlene! He had to have done it!”

“Since when have you known Spider-Man to ever kill someone? It’s not possible. This guy is full of shit.”

“He’s DEAD, what other proof do you need?”

“How do we know it’s dead? What if it’s a trick? Anyone can fake some footage. What if—”

But the conversations are drowned out with Jameson, running out of his office and making a beeline towards Carly.

“I knew it! I knew this would happen!” He yells out, Carly looking to him then back to Michelle. 

“J—”

“Get me on a livestream, Carla. We’ve got breaking news!” 

Jameson doesn’t even acknowledge Michelle, too focused on Carly. “I got a direct link with our dearly departed Mysterio, got a video link that’s gonna break the internet!” 

“What could—”

“Quentin Beck’s his name and before he was mercilessly slain by that menace Spider-Man, he made arrangements, sent me a link of everything we need to know about Spider-Man and what we need to take him down!”

Michelle’s blood turns cold, frozen in fear and in anger.

_ Quentin. _ The memory of that first meeting comes rushing back to her, kicking herself for not warning Peter - for not going back to her instincts and telling him that something was wrong, that she’d felt wrong being around him. 

But it was too late for that now, forcing herself to move - even as she feels Carly’s hand go towards her, resting on her hand. 

Carly’s not an affectionate person, never has been - but Michelle can see the tension and concern written all over her face, almost maternal as she says, “Jameson, how do you know it’s verified? We can’t just—”

“It’s instinct, Carlita! I know it, feel it in my bones! Beck was a good man and now he’s gone. Now we have the power to tell the world the TRUTH about Spider-Man.” 

He leans in, whispering but his voice loud enough for Michelle to hear - the next words causing any sense of rationality to leave.

“His name’s Peter Parker. And we’re about to ruin him.” 

* * *

Panic.

Pure, unadulterated panic.

Michelle is thankful that she’s had years of experience in schooling her features, that the years she spent feigning disinterest in the world around her as she took information in and the years spent working at the Bugle have taught her how to keep all of her emotions tightly contained.

Michelle looks to Carly, her voice even and eyes firm.

“I have to go. Family emergency.” 

Carly just nods, communicating with her own eyes that she’ll do whatever she can to stop Jameson - Michelle knowing damn well that with the gleam in his eyes, there’s nothing they can do to stop it.

She can’t stop it, or if she could - it would be time wasted. 

Time she’ll need to get to Peter.

* * *

Carly seemingly holds Jameson long enough for Michelle to get back home, thinking that if this day from hell ever ends and if there is any semblance of normal left in their lives that she’ll have to thank her.

The city isn’t in chaos, not like the Bugle was. It feels like a target on her back, the revelation that Quentin is dead - that Peter supposedly killed him - and that Quentin had somehow outed his identity to the one person who would be all too willing to listen. 

She calls for Peter, over and over again only for their to be no answer - the panic rising every time she gets sent to voicemail. She finally take the chance to listen to her own voicemails, hoping - even praying - that Peter is okay as she begins to listen. 

_ “MJ, I need you to listen. Don’t come to the Brooklyn Bridge okay? No matter what you see. Are you okay? You’re at work, I know you’re at work but, just. Don’t come here alright?” _

_ “MJ— Karen, what the hell is that? MJ, are you there? Where are you? I can’t, I can’t get any readings. I can’t tell what’s real. Please, answer the phone.” _

_ “MJ, answer me. Please, God I just saw… I don’t know what I saw. MJ, I need you to pick up the phone alright? I need to know you’re okay. Call me. Please.” _

_ “Michelle! Are you there? MJ, I’m—“ _

The last voicemail caught off, her throat constricting at what could’ve happened. Mysterio dealt in illusions, that much she knew - and her stomach churned at the idea that Peter somehow thought she was there, that he -  _ Quentin  _ \- had rigged some kind of trick to make Peter think that she was in danger.

She keeps trying to call but with no answer, her only thought to get back home - thinking back to a promise they had made each other to find their way home, no matter what. 

She gets a call from May and answers it, without thinking.

“Michelle?”

“Have you heard from Peter?” She asks, rushing up the apartment stairs, hearing the waver of May’s voice on the other end.

“No. No, God I hoped you had. Have you seen what that video? Mysterio is—“

“I know. I know, May.” Michelle replies, almost out of breath for how fast she’s trying to get to her apartment. 

“The Bugle posted a video— they said his name. It’s being picked up by other channels.” Michelle huffs, trying to catch her breath as she makes the landing - rushing through the stairway door and towards her apartment.

“Are you okay? Where are you?” May’s question doesn’t get answered because Michelle - lungs on fire as she runs toward her apartment - is filled with immediate relief, her door swinging open as she rushed forward.

Because there is Peter, suit mangled beyond repair - bleeding from God knows where - with his eyes red rimmed and looking like he’s been hit by a train for how cut up he is. 

Michelle barrels into him, Peter’s arms immediately wrapping around her, Michelle feeling the sob in the back of her throat as she wraps her arms around him.

She holds him tight, her arms shaking until she remembers May on the other line. She leans out of Peter’s embrace, his eyes transfixed on her face - almost willing her to be real as she pushes him into the apartment, closing the door behind her and bringing her phone back to her ear.

“I’m home. Peter’s here. I’ll call you back.”

She knows she shouldn’t hang up so quickly, knowing that May would be just as concerned about Peter - but Michelle’s focus is back on Peter, taking him as her eyes search all over him.

He looks dazed, almost drugged - his suit completely shredded in some places, seeing a long but shallow cut along his right side. His hair is bloodied, dirt all over his chin and right cheek, seeing a deep gash over his eyebrow that looks half-healed, as if it had been a first hit that he’d had to work around as he fought for his life.

And that’s exactly what he looks like, almost stumbling as he seems to blink - staring at her like she’s a hallucination. 

Michelle grabs on to him, Peter shuddering slightly as his eyes focus on hers - sinking to the floor. Michelle joins him, holding him upright as he shakes his head.

“Is this real?” Peter whispers, Michelle nodding her head furiously. 

“I’m here. Peter, I’m right here.” He brings a hand to her face, Michelle grimacing seeing the blood all over it - wondering how many injuries he has that she’s yet to see. 

“I saw, I thought—“

“I’m  _ here. _ ” Michelle answers, bringing one hand to cover his as she puts pressure on his shoulder - Peter taking a shaky breath.

“MJ. It, it was Quentin. Quentin’s Mysterio.”

“I know, Peter. It’s everywhere.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t kill him. I didn’t, I don’t think I did. I don’t know.” Michelle could feel the panic rising again, seeing how disoriented and unsure Peter was.

Peter was many things - smart, funny, kind - but the awkwardness of his teenage years had faded long ago, Michelle wondering what the hell he’d seen to have made him be so tongue tied.

“He wanted me to join him, wanted to team up or some shit. I don’t understand, it’s like he wanted to break me, break my reputation so that I wouldn’t have a choice.”

Michelle just listens, Peter continuing. “I didn’t kill him, MJ. I thought I was firing a web but then there was a gun and he went down and—“

“You didn’t do it, Peter.”

“You don’t  _ know _ that.” Peter answers, seeing the agonized expression on his face.

“I do. It doesn’t matter what you saw or what you think you did.  _ You _ would never hurt anyone willingly, Pete.” The fire in her heart rages, wondering if Quentin was actually dead - wondering if it would be worse if he was and that Peter had actually taken the shot.

But Michelle stood by her words, knowing it as deeply as she knows anything. 

Peter didn’t kill Quentin - whatever happened, Quentin had brought it on himself.

Peter seems to accept this, searching her eyes - almost as if the hand on her face wasn’t enough to show him that she was real.

“You’re okay?” He asks, Michelle hearing the waver in his voice. ”I tried calling but you didn’t answer. Something’s wrong with Karen, I had to come home. Wait for you, like we said.”

Michelle nods. “I’m okay. I’m right here, Pete. It’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

It’s a lie - Michelle has no idea what the hell is going to happen. But she’ll say it to Peter, tell him that everything is okay - because he needs to hear it.

Because she needs to believe it too.

Peter nods, swallowing something in his throat before saying something that makes Michelle’s eyes widen.

“Marry me.”

She jolts out of his hands, slightly - starling him.

“ _ What _ ?”

Peter seems focused, a searing look in his eyes. “Marry me.”

Michelle shakes her head, putting a hand to his chest. “Peter, you’ve been— don’t ask me that today. Not now, not after you almost—“

“I saw you die.” 

Michelle’s blood runs cold, hearing the brokenness in Peter’s voice, the tears brimming in his eyes as he continued.

“Over and over again. It was a nightmare.” Peter shudders, bringing his hands to cradle her face. 

“And all I could think is that you would’ve died without knowing how much I loved you. That you were gone and we didn’t— I didn’t get to tell you—“

“I love you, Peter. You know that. And I know you love me too.” Michelle tries to stop him, thinking that this wasn’t the time - in so many different ways. 

But Peter is relentless now, his jaw trembling as he says, “I wanted to do it on top of the Empire State Building. Or at dinner. In bed. Anywhere. I wanted to ask you so many times.”

“Peter,” Michelle says softly, willing for him to listen to reason, “I love you but you’ve been through hell today.”

“And that’s exactly why I can’t wait any longer.” Peter’s voice is firm, Michelle seeing the fear and the certainty in his eyes in equal dimensions. 

“I have loved you since we were sixteen years old. I will love you until the day I die.”

“Peter—“

“And if you’ll have me, if you’ll marry me, I will spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I love you.”

Michelle’s breath hitches, knowing that Peter had faced death - had seemingly faced  _ her _ death - over and over again today. 

It’s not how Michelle had anticipated him asking the question and a part of her wonders if it was foolish, knowing that for as much as they both wanted this - that Peter was in no position to make these kind of decisions.

But Michelle also loved him, loved Peter more than she’s ever loved anyone. 

And with his identity out in the world and a possible murder charge hanging over his head, Michelle couldn’t even consider a world where Peter would ever think he’d have to face what was next alone.

“You have to ask it.”

Peter blinks. “What?”

“You’re the traditionalist. Say the words.” Michelle replies, bringing her hands into his.

Peter smiles, Michelle seeing the tears in his eyes and the hope in them as he asks, “Should I kneel?”

Michelle lets out a laugh, feeling tears form in her eyes. “If you do, I don’t think you’ll get back up. Hurry up, I need to make sure you don’t bleed out on the floor.”

Peter laughs, tears falling down as his face breaks out into a smile. “Michelle Jones, will you marry me?”

She smiles, thinking that of all the questions she’s ever been asked - that this was the easiest answer she could give.

“Yes. Of course, I’ll marry you. Now kiss me so I can stitch you up.”

As Peter does, Michelle feeling the laughter in his chest - she thinks that even if this isn’t how either of them had planned it, their life had never been simple to begin with.

It was terrible timing, something Michelle would have to talk to him about later - a question in the back of her mind if their lives would ever be normal ever again. 

Despite the hell he had faced and an uncertain future, bringing him closer as she wrapped her arms around him tightly, Michelle took comfort that no matter what happened - they would face it together. 


	6. Hunted.

Michelle had never really been the person to imagine her wedding. 

Her parents love was sickeningly perfect, a model of everything right that could happen in a relationship. Yet their wedding wasn’t ever something they talked about, knowing it had been something short in a courthouse - an elopement that in the retelling had felt a little anticlimactic, knowing what she did of how their love story played out. 

Yet neither of them had seemed to have any regrets, perfectly content because it had given them the chance to start the rest of their lives without a mountain of debt. 

Michelle knew Peter’s side of things had decidedly more hoopla - listening to May talk about how much she’d loved that first dance with Ben, Peter telling her about stories Ben had told him about his own parents and the massive week-long party they had thrown to celebrate a union that wouldn’t last the decade. 

It seemed irreconcilable in one sense, their approaches to weddings - but Michelle had decided a long time ago, right around the time that she loved him - that if a wedding is what he wanted, than it’s what Peter would get.

She didn’t care either way, not strongly enough to put her foot down. And knowing the kind of romantic that Peter was, Michelle wouldn’t dream of denying him the chance to dedicate an entire day to sharing with their friends and family how much they loved each other. 

Then Peter was accused of murder. 

* * *

Any of Michelle’s hesitation to quit the Bugle had gone out the window after his identity was revealed. She’d reasoned with herself before that she was doing more good by being there for him as a reporter but in the immediate aftermath, as Peter winced as she stitched him together in their bathtub brought her to a different perspective. It was something she’d done time and time and again, even if it had felt different then with the way Peter kept glancing back at her - almost to assure himself that she was really there. 

Seeing the look in his eyes, the deep cuts and awful bruising that she knew would physically fade even if the emotional ones would linger brought a certainty to her decision. 

Michelle couldn't work at the Bugle - not now. Not when everything with Peter was at risk. Her mind raced with ideas of what to next as she gingerly cleaned Peter up, hearing the phone ring in the other room.

They’d already called May back, Pepper had called a few times to tell them they would figure it out - to not answer the door and stay put.

The phone ringing again put Peter on edge - feeling how his muscles tensed as Michelle went to move away. 

Peter grabbed her hand, a pleading look in his eyes. 

“Don’t go.” He whispered, Michelle almost letting herself stay for how broken he sounded. But she was in crisis mode, gripping his hand tighter as she stared into his eyes - embracing him with her words as she moved away from him. 

“It could be Pepper or May. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Peter nods a bit too fast, Michelle watching as he swallows down something in his throat - seeing in real-time as the man she loves sheds the fear in his eyes and his gaze hardens. 

“We’re going to be okay.” He tells her, Michelle giving a short nod before letting go of his hand - going for the phone before it goes to voicemail. 

When she sees who’s calling she laughs, answering it immediately.

“Oh my _ God _, Peter! Are you okay?”

“He’s okay, Ned. I promise--”

“MJ! Oh my God, what’s going on? Do you need me to be there? Fuck, I can’t believe this. I can be on a flight in--”

“Ned?” Peter asks, Michelle glaring at him as he limped towards her.

“You’re going to bleed all over the carpet.” She could care less about the carpet but it’s what comes out, thinking of how much pain he had to be in. But Peter waves her off, reaching for the phone. Michelle gives it to him, Peter holding her gaze as he brings the phone to his ear. 

“Hey man, it’s me.” 

She can vaguely hear Ned’s exclamations through the phone, seeing how relieved Peter was at hearing his voice - as if there was another invisible burden that had been lifted, the slight tension in his shoulders releasing in the same way she’d seen it when he’d first seen her - when he’d talked to May over the phone and had heard from Pepper. 

That another person in his life safe and sound. 

Peter had fought for his life, had a future that Michelle couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would unfold. 

But listening to him talk to Ned, seeing his face transform into a look that reminded her so much of the boy she had fallen in love with instead of the man in front of her - Michelle hoped that the universe would give him just this one thing - and allow everything to turn out okay.

* * *

Michelle gripped Peter’s neck, hooking her legs over his waist, bringing him impossibly close. Peter responded in kind, rolling his hips - almost punishingly slow as he panted into her neck. 

“Hurry up.” She huffed, seeing the smirk on Peter’s face as he continued to move in the same steady rhythm.

“I’m trying to enjoy this, _ wife _.” 

Michelle felt a flutter in her stomach at his tone - at his _ words _ \- closing her eyes and moving her hips faster in response, clenching around him. Peter’s groan made her laugh, his hips involuntarily moving faster.

“And _ I’m _ tired of waiting, husband.” Michelle’s voice was low, eyes open as Peter brought his head up, seeing the intensity of his gaze - a look that pierced deep into her soul, wondering if anyone else had ever felt the kind of love she saw in his eyes - the kind of love that Michelle knows she could spend lifetimes trying to understand and never would.

They moved together in unison, Peter’s lips meeting hers - kissing her like she was the only thing in the world as he started to pick up the pace - until Michelle started to feel breathless, panting as one hand gripped his hair, the other bracing herself against his neck. 

Michelle had never really imagined her wedding and now, hours after they’d tied the knot in a quiet ceremony at the lakehouse - she was glad that she had no expectations, knowing that it could never have lived up to the reality of this moment. 

* * *

It’d been a month since Mysterio - since _ Quentin _ \- had outed Peter’s identity, since the world not only found out who the man behind the mask was but was suddenly confronted with the possibility that their friendly neighborhood hero was a murderer. 

Peter was ready to turn himself in - let the justice system prove his innocence, Michelle feeling a surge of irrational pride and simultaneous anger that Peter could be so naive as to think that it would work out in his favor. 

He wasn’t naive - just earnest, believing in the best in a way that Michelle hoped would never fade away. But his life wasn’t his own - as Michelle had argued - and that he wasn’t allowed to make the kind of self-sacrificial play he would’ve in high school. 

Pepper’s team of lawyers had already mounted the defense in the days immediately following, leaking the truth of who Quentin had been - a disgruntled former employee of Stark Industries, ingratiating himself into the life of one of Tony Stark’s heirs in a sole effort to ruin him - but Michelle’s heart soared that despite all the hell Quentin had put through Peter through, despite Jameson’s attempts to further smear his name - the people of New York rallied for him. 

A month later and things had relatively settled - not quite normal but not completely resolved, making Michelle wonder if it ever really would. 

Peter was almost stuck in limbo - aching to get out there and help the city but seemingly wracked with worry that doing so would just put the two of them at risk. He’d gone out earlier this week - just to test the waters, Michelle feeling even more anxious than she’d ever been. 

Aside from some tourists asking for pictures more than usual, it had been a normal night - coming home to her even earlier than he usually would - seemingly just as concerned about being apart in a way that they hadn’t ever been before. 

Pepper offered for them to stay at her penthouse, just until the dust settled but it hadn’t felt right - even if the possibility of one of Peter’s villains of the week coming to find them was an ever present threat. 

The apartment was _ theirs _ \- and if they moved, Michelle wanted it to be on their own terms, something Peter seemed in agreement with as they tried planning for the rest of their lives.

To their credit, people in New York seemed to be just as protective of them as they were about each other - the people in their building having some kind of unspoken promise to protect her and Peter in a way that gave her a little more faith in humanity.

When the Rhino idiot showed up, demanding for Peter to show himself while he was out and Michelle was home alone - she had barely called for Sam when she watched in disbelief as the tenants started to yell back at him, throwing things out their windows and distracting him long enough for both Sam and Peter to swoop in and handle it. 

Michelle wondered how long it would last, knowing that people seemed disinterested at best at what the remaining Avengers did. 

But she should’ve guessed Peter would be different, noticing as people seemed to intentionally look away from them when they had first ventured out to the grocery store - as if to give them the privacy that Michelle had thought they would never have again.

It was… nice. A tentative balance, something that Michelle wondered how long it would hold. But it was enough of a small semblance of peace, enough to give her hope that the future she had with Peter - a future she looked forward to having - would be alright after all. 

* * *

Peter’s hips began to move faster - hitting the place that he knew would make Michelle’s toes curl, any other thoughts falling away as she held him tighter - thinking that even if he wanted to savor the moment - their first time having sex as a married couple - he was doing a terrible job of prolonging it, bringing her closer and closer with every hard thrust. 

If Michelle would’ve had her way, she would’ve had someone - maybe May or her dad - get a license off the internet, marrying Peter in their living room. 

But Peter - her dumbass _ husband _, the love of her life - had been insistent. That even if their lives had seemingly gone to shit and that any chance of normal was gone forever, that they’d have a wedding - no matter how quiet and small, something that they could tell their children about years and years in the future. 

It hadn’t taken a month to plan but it’s how it ended up - her parents being just as eager as Peter had been in having something memorable - away from the prying eyes of journalists and nosy office workers from city hall and more significant than an online certificate. 

Michelle had relented - letting May and her mom fuss over her hair and a dress, letting her father walk down the aisle as he tried not to cry, letting Peter cry without teasing him as he saw her, swallowing the traitorous lump in her throat as they said their vows.

But she had been insistent on one thing - one aspect of everything that Michelle had been completely immovable about. 

That their honeymoon be spent in their apartment, just the two of them - like there was nothing else in the world they had to deal with but them. 

The world knew Peter and by default, knew Michelle. But even if they had to face a new and changing world, this moment was something they could hold on to together - as if nothing had changed. 

Pepper would’ve preferred to have funded a vacation elsewhere - May and her parents too, the worry in their eyes earlier that day so apparent that it made Michelle’s stomach churn.

But Peter couldn’t leave the city and neither could she - feeling in some way that if they did, it was as if they were running.

No matter what - no matter how it unfolded, neither of them would run. 

Peter was New York’s friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. And Michelle - a woman who had made a name for herself in her own right - wouldn’t allow either of them to be pushed away from the city that was their home. 

“MJ.” Peter whispered into her ear, Michelle’s mind focusing back on the moment - getting lost to the feeling of him moving inside of her - her own hips bucking underneath him so harshly that she felt as if she was going to burst. 

When she tipped over the edge, Michelle panted his name - hearing Peter groan as he tumbled over with her, stroking through the sensation until he stilled - collapsing on her until the weight of him made her laugh. 

“You’re squishing me.” She whispered into his ear, feeling his laughter through his chest. 

“What better way to go.” She hears him murmur into her neck, still out of breath even as she smiled - feeling how their bodies were still joined together. Michelle carded her fingers through his hair, feeling his heartbeat through his chest - her own thrumming in her ears as he lifted his head, looking at her again like she was the only thing he’d ever want to see. 

“Says you. I got a lot to live for.” Michelle whispered, her eyes closing as he kissed her. She felt him lift himself slightly, giving her room to breathe without sliding out of her just yet, brushing his fingers across her forehead as she opened her eyes again. 

“I love you.”

MIchelle smiled. “I love you too. _ Husband _.” 

The smile on Peter’s face was enough to light up the room, chasing away the darkness that had plagued them for weeks. 

“_ Wife _.” Peter’s reply is soft, kissing her once more before he finally moves off of her - Michelle stretching as she turned to look at him, watching as he tied off the condom and went to throw it away. 

She’d have to get up in a minute, hearing her old high school sex-ed teacher in her head about the dangers of UTIs. But she took just a moment to glance up at the ceiling, wishing that even if they hadn’t had the chance to have the kind of wedding that Peter had no doubt imagined, that she was glad they could at least have some semblance of a honeymoon that she had always wanted. 

They wouldn’t run - either of them, Michelle sighing as she sat up in bed as Peter walked back in.

She smiled at him, seeing the flush in his cheeks.

“Well?”

Michelle laugher, seeing the stupid smirk in Peter’s face. “Well what?”

“Well,” Peter murmured, moving back to lay next to her, “Not bad for honeymoon sex.”

Michelle rolled her eyes, sitting up. “We’ve been together for almost nine years, Peter. We damn well _ better _ be good, honeymoon or not.”

She rolled out of bed, moving to the bathroom as he leaned back, hands behind his head. Michelle looked back at him, the smile on her own face matching his.

“But yeah not bad.” Michelle shrugged, “I got some pointers for how you can improve.”

“Do you now?” Peter’s eyes flashed with something Michelle recognized, thanking everything in the universe that unlike any other man on the planet - Peter didn’t need nearly as much time to recover before a second round.

Michelle laughed. “Don’t get too excited, tiger.” She beamed, walking towards the bathroom - turning her head over her shoulder before saying, “We have the rest of our lives.”

* * *

By the time September rolled around, life had found its new normal. 

Peter was cleared of all charges - as she knew he would be, Pepper’s lawyers doing exactly what they were paid to do. It helped that despite Jameson’s bullshit, large swaths of the city stayed on Peter’s side - arguing that their local hero had been just that - _ a hero _ \- for the better part of a decade and the switch to cold-blooded murderer seemed too far fetched.

The looks that her and Peter got now when they walked down the street were few and far between - the people of New York seemingly taking the same stance they did about finding any other celebrity couple out and about: total indifference. 

In a way it was almost underwhelming, Michelle thinking back to how the possibility of Peter’s identity being out in the world seemed to be one of his biggest nightmares. It was something they had both avoided for so long, something Peter has strived for - if only to protect the people that he loved.

It seemed that now that he had different nightmares, all revolving around Michelle. 

  
  


* * *

Michelle woke up with a start, hearing the soft whine next to her. She blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the darkness and turned over - seeing Peter curled up in the fetal position, turned away from her - murmuring something she couldn’t understand. 

Peter had been plagued with nightmares for years, something Michelle had chalked up to as a consequence of facing the possibility of his death over and over again. But when she put a hand to his shoulder, his voice cut through the darkness - making her heart construct at his words.

“Don’t— don't hurt her.” He whispered, a pained gasp as he shuddered from her touch.

“Pete, it’s me.” Michelle whispered back, softly rubbing her arm down his - trying to determine how to wake him up without setting him off further. 

“Please wake up. MJ, MJ please.” Peter sobbed, Michelle’s grip on his arm tightening as she gently shook him.

“Peter, wake up. It’s not real. It’s not real, I’m right here.”

“MJ— no. No. No. No.” Peter’s whole body was shaking, Michelle’s own handle on him rougher - feeling like something was lodged in her throat as she rushed to wake him.

She knew he had had nightmares about her being hurt before, had been in this very position - not so gently waking him up to assure him that she was okay - intermittently throughout the years.

But after Quentin, even three months after their lives had been upended - it seemed as if Peter was still stuck on that bridge, reliving the illusions that he’d seen over and over again each night.

For as much as the idea that Peter had inadvertently taken the shot that ended Quentin’s life tortured him, Michelle couldn’t help but feel glad that Quentin was dead - knowing that she wouldn’t have trusted herself not to go after him herself for the hell he’d been Peter through.

“Peter. Peter, wake up.” Michelle’s voice is clear now - sitting up in bed as she shook him, Peter’s eyes snapping open as he sat up - chest heaving in panic.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. It was just a dream.” Michelle said, quiet but firm as she kept her grip on his shoulder.

He gasped, his eyes raging with panic and fear - letting out a shuddered breath as he searched her face.

“MJ. I thought—“

“I know,” she whispered, bringing his hand to her chest - seeing the visible sigh of relief as he heard - and felt - her heartbeat through his palm. 

It was something that her mom had suggested, a therapy tactic to try and assuage Peter’s fears that what he was seeing wasn’t real. 

If he couldn’t trust his vision, he could trust his other senses. And the sound and feel of Michelle’s beating heart was enough for him to begin to relax.

Peter takes a steadying breath, eyes locked onto hers as she smiled to him - Peter moving his hand from her chest to her face, Michelle still feeling the slight shake in his touch.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. It’s okay, I’m right here. I’m okay.” Michelle leans forward, bringing her head to his chest - setting into an embrace as his arms wrapped around her - holding her tight as she felt his heartbeat pounding. 

They say nothing - Michelle knowing he needed to catch his breath, that just holding her was enough. 

The miscommunications of the past year and a half seemed quaint now, Michelle’s mind going to when his biggest worry had been wondering if Michelle was pregnant or if the apartment they were in had electrified windows.

But this was the life she had signed up for - willingly, every single day - knowing all too well what a world without Peter Parker had felt like, even if it had only been a few minutes.

It pained Michelle to think that Peter had his own personal hell to work through - thinking back to when their positions had been shifted, in the immediate months after that android had sliced through Peter and had almost taken her world along with him.

But Peter had been okay and now so was she - holding him close as his breathing started to even out. They’d been through hell - over and over again, only to come out of it stronger - to now be _ married _.

With the start of their respective semesters - Peter’s second year and her first in law school - Michelle could only hope that the promise of a new semester would be enough to help them transition into another phase of their life. One that wouldn’t necessarily be filled with peace, but with the normal stress and worry that any other twenty-something in professional school faced.

“I love you.” Peter murmured into her hair, Michelle adjusting her body to look up at him.

“I love you.” She kissed him softly, just enough for him to recognize that it was real before assuming her previous position - burrowing her head into his chest as she heard him sigh.

The next few weeks were bound to be filled with more adjustment, figuring out yet again how to live the new normal they had found themselves in. 

Yet feeling the rise and fall of his chest, closing her eyes as his steady heartbeat started to slow - Michelle let herself live in this moment with him, hoping that her embrace was enough to chase away the nightmares - if only for another night.

* * *

When Michelle opens her eyes, it’s dark. 

Her head is pounding, a throbbing ache as if she’s been hit by a truck - groaning as she blinked her eyes open.

It’s dark - suffocatingly so, she can’t even see her hands in front of her—

Michelle stops, her hands hitting something hard as she tried to reach her hands up to her face.

She trails the hand across the length of it, a flat surface inches away from her face. She places a palm against it, her heart rate spiking even as she willed herself to calm down - the darkness and quiet making her mind go to the worst place. 

_ Okay. Don’t freak out. Consider your surroundings. _

Michelle tentatively reaches her hands to the right side, trailing downwards until it sharply stops - another flat surface - feeling her breath shudder as reality started to match up with where her brain had already told her where she was.

But Michelle had been a journalist, went to a science high school. She couldn’t afford to freak out, not when the theory of where she was felt more and more like it was true.

Michelle’s hands trailed back to the front, moving again to the left in the same motion, lifting her leg up slowly only to hit a surface - confirming what she knew in her heart.

She was trapped somewhere - the shape of it eerily reminiscent of a coffin. 

But Michelle couldn't panic - wouldn’t, not if her theory was true. 

_ Okay. Think, Michelle. Think. _

But it hurt to think, her head still pounding and the oxygen in the place - _ the coffin _ \- she was in suddenly feeling thin, though how much of that had to do with how long she’d been there or the realization that she had been buried alive.

Michelle shook her head, throwing that assumption away. She didn’t know that yet. She was a journalist - a future lawyer.

Michelle went over the facts.

The last thing she remembered was walking down the street, rushing to a class - the rain pouring down around her even as she was safely kept in her umbrella.

The air around her felt thin but also… moist. Wet. 

_ Earthy. _

Michelle felt her breath hitch but swallowed it down, going back to her last memory. 

She was usually hyper aware of the world around her - a natural instinct of growing up in the city and then further solidified with her life with Peter - before and _ after _ his identity was outed.

Pepper had expected that Peter’s enemies would come out of the woodwork - something that Peter feared and Michelle tried not to think about. But despite some close calls - the Rhino notwithstanding - nothing major had happened. No massive threats. No problems in the middle of the night.

Michelle should’ve guessed that the peace they had found was only an illusion. 

She moves her hands in front of her - pushing slightly against the surface, the weight of whatever was on top of the flat surface in front of her unmoving. 

Michelle took a steady breath, closing her eyes even if the act of it did nothing - both swimming in darkness.

If she’s right - if she’s buried alive somewhere - there’s no use in yelling - not when she has no idea how long she’s been there, how far deep down she is, not when the amount of oxygen she has is precious.

It’d been midday when she was last walking to class, remembering that she’d glanced at her clock and wondered if she should grab some coffee since constitutional law was her least favorite. 

Michelle has no idea how much time has passed, yet the pounding in her head and how woozy she was feeling gave every indication that it had been awhile. 

Michelle shudders at the thought, her mind running through every bad horror movie and tv show she’d ever seen about victims who had been buried alive, remembering the old crime dramas her and Ned used to watch in high school. 

A healthy person could survive about five hours, maybe longer if they kept their calm. Victims usually slipped into a coma long before the point of death, a blessed relief to avoid the suffocation that came with carbon monoxide poisoning. 

She squashed that thought as quickly as it came. 

Michelle Jones-Parker was no one’s fucking victim. And she wasn’t dying at twenty-five - not if she had anything to do with it. 

Michelle reaches for her phone in her pocket, half-guessing whoever had kidnapped her had likely taken it out and half-hoping they hadn’t bothered, the relief instantaneous when she fishes it out - only to be confused.

It’s not her phone - but a flip phone, with the battery fully charged.

Michelle’s mind races at the implication, the idea that someone had no doubt planned this - wondering who it could be and why, though the idea that it was something related to Peter made the sinking feeling in her stomach grow deeper. 

Especially when she checks the clock and realizes, she’s been down here for three hours.

Five hours is an estimate. Maybe she has more. But she may also have less, involuntarily shuddering again. 

But Michelle pushes that aside, seeing that it has service and starts to dial Peter’s number - thanking the universe that she’d committed it to memory after everything went down with Quentin, refusing to be separated again. 

She can’t allow herself to panic. Not now. Not when Peter was out there, waiting for her. 

The phone begins to ring, putting it on speaker as her other hand absentmindedly braces against the surface in front of her.

Now - with the cell phone light having briefly illuminated her surroundings - she can see that wherever she is wooden, plain - nondescript and unexceptional if only for the fact that she was currently encased around it. 

A dark thought occurs to her that she hadn’t seen the sun in days because of the rain, wondering if now if she’s ever see it again. But Michelle dismisses it, chastising herself.

_ Pull it together. You’re going to be okay. You're gonna make it out of this. _

It’s a lie - one so similar to the one she had told Peter.

But as the phone continues to ring, Michelle clutching it as if it was a lifeline - she makes herself believe it.

She has to.

* * *

The phone rings.

And rings.

And rings.

Just when she’s going to give up, hang up and call Pepper - the line picks up, hearing Peter’s frenzied breathing. 

“Where is she, Quentin? Stop fucking around.”

Michelle’s mind whirs - realizing that Peter thinks she’s Quentin - as if Quentin is still alive. Her stomach drops, kicking herself for believing that their problems had been so simply resolved. 

She doesn’t get to answer, hearing Peter fighting on the other end - hearing a voice that sounds vaguely familiar.

“_ Come on little Spider, can’t you take the heat _?”

She hears Peter groan on the other end, Michelle wincing - imagining and hoping that he’s swung himself out of the way of whoever he’s fighting against. Her mind and her mouth aren’t working, suddenly feeling a little dizzy

But no. Michelle refuses to allow herself to pass out, she’s not a damn damsel in distress.

Peter needs to know she’s okay. And she will be - there’s no other fucking choice.

“Fuck off, Gargan.” She hears Peter snarl, hearing the wind rush through the phone.

“Answer me. Or whoever the hell this is. I’m sick of this shit. Tell me where she is.

Peter sounds furious, angry and tired and exhausted. But she can’t focus on that, her voice suddenly coming back in full force.

“Peter, it’s me.”

She can hear the soft gasp on the other line, the sudden stop as the sound of the wind on the other line ends - her mind imagining him having landed on a rooftop somewhere.

“Oh my _ God _, MJ, I’ve been trying—“

“Peter, I need you to listen to me.”

She can hear him on the other line, knowing that he recognizes how tense she is. Michelle wills her voice to be steady, swallowing down the panic in her throat.

“I’m underground somewhere. I’m buried— I’m in a coffin, I think.”

She hears Peter’s gasp, a sharp and breathy exhale before he speaks.

“Ok. Ok. Karen, I need you to trace this call. Hack whatever the hell you need to. Contact FRIDAY, whatever just do it.” His attention turns back to Michelle, asking, “Do you know where they took you?”

“No,” Michelle flattens her palm against the surface above her, “I didn’t even know someone was following me. I should’ve known. I should’ve checked—“

“Don’t put this on yourself, MJ.” Peter’s voice is harsh, Michelle hearing the tremble in it. She knows that tone, her own jaw straightening.

“This isn’t your fault either, Peter. Don’t do that.”

“MJ—“

“No.” Michelle feels the tears in her eyes, blinking them back as she says, “Now come on, let’s figure this out. What’s happening?”

Peter sighs, hearing him curse then dodge something again - the wind whipping around him as he hears someone cackle from the other line.

“It’s like every fucking person I’ve sent to jail is out to get me. The lizard, Rhino, even fucking Toomes is out here.”

Michelle hears as he grunts, no doubt dodging something else as he continues.

“He planned this, MJ. Quentin. He’s been planning this for years. It’s like he knew what would happen on that bridge, connecting with everyone, waiting until—“

His voice cuts off just then, the cry of pain making Michelle place pressure on the surface above her.

“Peter!”

She hears him groan, the tell-tale sound of his web being sent out again.

“I’m okay. I’m— ugh, I’m fine. He’s— I don’t even know if Quentin’s alive or it’s just some fucking AI. It doesn’t matter. Are you okay? Karen, where are we on the location?”

Michelle could almost laugh at how concerned he was, knowing it wasn’t misplaced - even if her heart constricted at the knowledge that he was hurt and likely hiding it from her.

“I’m fine, you know. All things considered.”

Peter lets out a laugh, though Michelle can hear the sob in it.

“God, MJ. I didn’t— some guy in fucking lion fur showed up at the lab, telling me that he’s a hunter and found his greatest prize.”

Michelle waits, listening as his voice shakes.

“He was going to take me, but then Quentin— that _ fucker _—he, he convinced him to take you. Said the best way to kill a pride isn’t to kill the lion, but the lioness.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know.” Peter’s voice cracks, “But I knew. I knew he’d taken you. I tried to follow after him but then it was like everyone else showed up and I couldn’t— your phone was turned off, I couldn’t trace it. It was—it was like—“

_ The bridge. _ Michelle’s mind offers, saying nothing even as her eyes closed.

Michelle had been knocked out at least, completely unaware of the hell that Peter was going through. It was a damn cliche, a superhero love interest being taken by some fucking costumed villain.

Michelle refused to allow this to be her narrative, opening her eyes - voice firm. 

“He didn’t take me. I’m right here. I’m _ right here _, Peter. If I could crawl out of this myself, I would.”

She hears Peter’s pained chuckle, pushing forward. “But I can’t. I don’t have your powers but I know this. You are going to find me. We’re going to make it out of this. We always do. Alright?”

Michelle’s own voice cracks at the end, imagining Peter on the other line - his own eyes filled with tears under the mask, waiting for Karen to tell him where she is.

Because this is it - this is his worst nightmare and Michelle realizes that this is hers too.

For all that she had feared about living in a world without Peter, her mind had never considered what it would be like for him if she was the one who left.

Michelle grounds herself, clutching the phone tighter to her ear even as her the headache she has seems to get more and more prominent. It occurs to her that maybe she had underestimated how long she’d been in there, her mind feeling a little fuzzy. 

But she tried to shake it off.

She can’t leave him. She won’t. She _ refuses. _

Michelle hadn’t lived through hell and back with Peter, had married him, only to fucking die before she had the chance to live the long life with him that they deserved.

“Got your location.” She hears Peter, his voice hard. “I’m on my way.”

“Peter—“ Michelle can hear how breathless she sounds, 

“You’re right. You’re going to be fine. I just need to—to figure out this shit.” It’s almost as if she can hear the gears turning, his mind working overtime to find a solution. 

“Sam and Bucky are out of the country, Wanda joined them. Strange… shit. No he’s out. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He rambled, Michelle speaking up - wincing at how difficult it was. 

“They’re not the only ones who can help.”

She can almost hear him think before he lets out a laugh. “You’re right. God, I love you. Okay, I’ll call Pepper and Rhodey, see if she can deal with this shit in the city.” The wind is loud in her ear, no doubt because of how fast Peter was swinging.

Michelle can imagine the determination he has in flying through the city - trying to get to her.

“I’m coming, MJ. I’m coming.”

* * *

It’s taking him too long to get to her.

She can hear it through the phone - the frantic call to Pepper and Rhodes, hearing him swinging through the air.

But whoever Quentin had recruited keeps stopping him, hearing him fight over the phone - trying to evade them.

To get to her.

Michelle doesn’t know how long she’s been down there.

But she allows herself the chance to consider what would happen if he doesn’t get to her in time.

The air is getting thin, Michelle feeling how difficult it is to breathe. Her throat feels dry and the pounding in her head hasn’t stopped, wondering if she was also drugged.

It’s been too long, she knows it - even in checking the time - wondering if whatever she had been drugged with is making her grasp on consciousness that much harder to keep.

“MJ!”

“What?” She croaked out, licking her lips as Peter’s fighting on the other end played in the background.

“You can’t— I know you have to conserve air but, you gotta talk to me okay? Just—ugh— just every so often okay? I’m coming aright, I’m—

“Peter.” Michelle tries to hold her voice steady, steeling herself for the conversation she has to have.

The fights that he keeps getting stopped by, way Michelle’s vision is blurring - it’s taking too long. If she remembers right, it’ll be a matter of time before she loses consciousness - knowing that when she does, the chances of her waking up were slim to none.

Michelle is a fighter and is no one’s victim. But she’s also a pragmatist, swallowing down the fear and panic in her throat.

Peter might not get to her in time. And if he doesn’t, she can’t let herself die without saying goodbye.

“Peter, listen to me.”

Peter knows her too well, Michelle immediately sensing how her voice had changed - sniping back at her, “No, MJ. We’re not— don’t do that.”

“Peter—“

“No,” his voice is harsh, but Michelle can hear the waver in it - wincing as an explosion goes off in the background.

“Grab him, Pepper! No, MJ. Listen, you’re not going to do this okay. Anything you want to say to me, you can say to my face.”

She can hear him wheezing on the other line, knowing he’s been fighting for his life just as much as he’s been trying to reach her. And as much as Michelle trusts that Peter would be there for her in any scenario, the reality of their situation - and the possibility of her not seeing him again - pushes her forward.

“I love you, Peter. _ So _much.” Michelle’s voice breaks slightly, hearing the huff on the other line - a pained gasp as Peter continued to fight.

“MJ—“

“I love the way you hate coffee but drink it anyway. I love the way you listen to me and laugh at the stupidest commercials. I love that you can never get warm enough in the winter so you use me instead.” She can hear him on the other end, choking back a sob but Michelle pushes forward - hearing the fight in the background start to fade.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you. I always will.”

“Michelle—“

“Peter, I have to tell you okay? I have to. Because—“

“No, listen to me.” She can imagine him - swinging through the air, dodging bullets and fire and who knows what else - trying so hard to reach her

“I love you, MJ. And I made you a promise to love you for the rest of our lives. And this is _ not _ it okay? This isn’t the end for us. We’ve got a lot to live for remember?”

Michelle laughs, bringing her palm flat against the surface in front of her - wishing it was his hand instead of something she fears will be her grave.

“Yeah,” her voice shakes, letting herself feel the fear she had tried so hard to hold back. “We do.”

“We do. So hold on okay? I’m coming— I’m—“ She hears another explosion, closing her eyes as he continues.

“Hold on for me okay? Just hold on.”

* * *

Michelle knew she had to hold on. 

But she starts to forget why she told herself that.  
  
Michelle feels more and more like she’s swimming underwater - fighting against the surface to get out. 

The air around her feels hot, the sweat dripping down her forehead - blearily blinking to take in her surroundings, her eyes adjusting to the darkness.

Michelle can tell on some level that this is bad, the fact that she can see now - that her breathing feels shallow and her mind feels fuzzy. 

She has to hold on… but to what, is just out of reach.

She hears a voice - loud, warm and inviting. It sounds… scared, hearing it start to come into focus

_ “ _MJ. MJ, answer me.”

_ Who’s MJ? _

Michelle blinks.

_ That’s me. Wait, where’s Peter? _

“Peter?”

She can hear the relief in the other voice, the frenzied grunting on the other line. It sounds like…digging, just above her. Her mind tries to fill in the blanks but it’s like it’s something just on the tip of her tongue, a word she can’t find just barely outside of her grasp.

Michelle hears the voice again, louder and louder. Her name, feeling like it isn’t the first time it’s called out to her.

“MJ, you gotta keep talking okay? Keep talking to me. I can’t—“ the voice cracks, “Stay awake okay?”

The voice sounds so… broken. It reminds her so much of Peter, waking up in the middle of the night from his nightmares.

“Peter.” Michelle whispers, hearing the voice almost whine in return.

“I’m coming, MJ. I’m—almost—-“ she hears a grunt as she blinks a few times - her chest heaving, the act of breathing feeling more and more like a chore.

She hears someone - or something - land hard on the ground above her, wondering how that’s possible - but her mind is a jumble of thoughts, none of them running together as they should. 

Michelle’s tired - more exhausted than she’s been in months, in years. She could feel it, how easily it would be to just… let herself go. 

But there’s something that tells her she can’t, even if she’s having the hardest time remembering why.

Peter would know, he was always good for that - teasing her, arguing back with her - pointing out things she hadn’t considered before. 

They were a good team, Michelle thinks - even as her thoughts start to blur together. 

“Peter.” Michelle says it again, barely above a whisper - wishing he was here. Michelle never slept well without him beside her, so long as she went to sleep first - avoiding his snores. But the warmth of his body, knowing he was right beside her - it was so calming… like she could drift off to sleep.

It’s a feeling that’s tugging her down now, like she’s sinking - further and further away even if a part of her registers that she hasn’t moved. 

The voice is getting louder now, closer - the movement above her getting louder too - Michelle hearing more voices as it got closer. 

“Please—please, don’t— don't do this, MJ. Help me, Rhodes! I’m right here, MJ. I’m—fuck, please just—“

Michelle’s eyes flutter, her mind now focused on Peter.

His laugh. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. The funny dance he did when he put up the dishes. The way he looked at her in bed, pushing her hair out of her face. The way he cried at their wedding

She missed him - the thought of him making her want to smile even if Michelle can’t bring herself to move, feeling sleep crawl over like the weighted blanket her and Peter got as a wedding present. 

There’s a crack - a shift, and then unimaginable light. Michelle feels weightless now, strong arms cradling her neck and her back - lifting her up - so similar to how it would feel when her arms and legs are wrapped around Peter, swinging through the city - taking her places she would have never seen before.

The voice is loud now, sobbing - a horrifying wail that makes her want to move away from it. She can hear other voices in the background but the one in front of her is so loud, it drowns out all the others. 

“_ No _ . No. No. No, MJ. MJ, look at me. Look at me, please—God, don’t— wake up for me. _ Please _.” 

There’s a sudden pressure on her neck, feeling her pulse pump through it even as Michelle feels herself start to succumb to the thing pulling her down deeper and deeper.

She hears the cry of relief but the sound of it is hazy and far away, the world starting to shift out of focus even as other voices swirl around her - feeling herself shift and move, to where she doesn’t know.

“Stay with me. Please, MJ. _ Please _ don’t leave me.”

The voice - so familiar that it aches - sounds like it’s begging, a part of Michelle wanting to listen.

But the pull to let go is too strong, her last thoughts before drifting off - feeling something on her face as she does - going to Peter. How much she loves him.

And hoping that he’s okay. 

* * *

“_Blood pressure dropping”—_  
  


_ “—stable enough to move?”_

_ “...Intubate—needs oxygen—“ _

_ “Stay with us sweetheart.” _

* * *

  
Awareness comes to her in waves - like a dream. 

There’s something down her throat, she can feel it - even if she can’t feel much of anything — her head swirling around and sounds all around her.

Michelle can pick up voices - but can’t make sense of anything they’re saying. All of them drifting in and out.

* * *

_ “Can she hear us? Is she…” _

_ “She can. She’s in there, we’re still showing brain activity. We got to her just in time but, she’s not enhanced, Pete. It’s going to take a little longer for her body to—“ _

_ “Will she wake up?” _

* * *

It’s like swimming through mud, the pull to drift somewhere pulling her under only to release - small moments of air even if she doesn’t need the help to breathe.

That’s the first thing she’s aware of - breathing, and the memory of how difficult it had been. But Michelle’s mind is having a hard time making sense of what she’s missed, more voices - different ones - fading in and out of focus.

* * *

_ “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Jones. I’m— I thought—“ _

_ “This wasn’t your fault, Pete. It was the assholes who took her alright? And we’ve talked about this. Elaine or mom, okay?” _

_ “It’s been two days, Elaine. I don’t… I hate seeing her like this.” _

_ “It’s hard on all of us, Pete but you heard the doctors. She’s improving, it’s a matter of time before she opens her eyes, yells at you for worrying about her.” _

* * *

Michelle hears quiet laughter and then nothing - pulled back into the deep. 

* * *

The first time she wakes up - or at least the first time she’s aware of it, she’s thinks she’s alone - blinking her eyes a few times as she adjusts to her surroundings.

It’s dark - the window to her room illuminated with the city lights. Her throat feels sore, achingly so but blinking is an Olympic task - Michelle can’t even turn her head, feeling the familiar pull to sleep again. 

Her eyes go from the window to the chair beside her and that’s when she sees him - Peter, slumped over on the bed - mouth open, a puddle of drool already forming.

She sees him and then hears it, the snores she would recognize anywhere coming off of him.

He looks so tired, seeing how dark the circles under his eyes are - her mind trying to make sense of why even if she has a feeling that it has something to do with her. But Michelle saves that for another day, feeling herself drift back to sleep - Peter’s snores the last thing she hears before she’s back in the dark.

* * *

Michelle doesn’t think she wakes up again until the final time - but she’s told later that she did, much to the relief and surprise of everyone around her.

The first time she started straight into May’s eyes - saying nothing, even as she cried.

The second time it was a bit more gradual, her dad holding her hand as she blinked at him - squeezing her hand back, though the memory of that is fuzzy.

The time that matters to Michelle - the one she’s fully aware of and remembers - it was her and Peter, as it always would be.

* * *

“Hey.”

Michelle blinks a few times and then sees him, his smile so bright that it feels like it illuminates everything around her.

Michelle goes to speak but finds she can’t - closing her eyes even as Peter grips her hand tighter, bringing his other hand to her face.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. The doctors said it was gonna take awhile, you—you’ve been asleep for awhile.”

_ Asleep? _ Michelle’s eyebrows furrowed, the look of it making Peter laugh.

“They put you under, just to be safe.” She can feel his hand - warm, rough, his thumb brushing against her cheek - as he continues.

“But everything’s okay, MJ. I’m right here.” His grip on her hand tightens, Michelle trying to smile.

Peter laughs, even seeing tears in his eyes, the pressure from the hand on her face deepening. 

“God, I never thought I’d see that again. I—I was, I would’ve been lost without you, MJ. I can’t—“ She hears his breath hitch, blinking back tears as he leans forward. “I can’t even think of living a life without you.

Michelle wishes she could tell him that she felt the same - feeling more like herself than she thinks she has in awhile. There must be something in her eyes that makes him laugh again, bringing himself forward to kiss her.

It’s quick but enough for her to taste the salt from his tears, frowning as he pulls back.

“What? Too tame for you?”

Michelle raises an eyebrow, Peter snickering as he shook his head. 

“We’ll save that for later okay? You gotta get better first.” His grip on her hand tightens. “And you will, Cho will want to come in and check in on you.”

Michelle squeezes his hand back, Peter’s face breaking out into a smile.

She feels the words - they’re right on the tip of her tongue, but her body betrays her - falling short of what she wants to say.

But Peter seems to understand her anyway, wiping away a tear that had escaped.

“I love you too. _Wife._”

Michelle knew that he did, just as a real and as viscerally as she knew anything. She knew that this was only the start - of her recovery, of the rest of their lives - but holding Peter’s hand, feeling the warmth and the life in it - Michelle felt unimaginable relief that she was able to be there with him.

Her mind goes back to the last time they were in this position - when the roles were reversed, Peter in a hospital bed after the android that had almost ended him with her sitting vigil by his side.

It was ironic in a sense, a cruel twist of the universe - for both of their nightmares to have come so horrifyingly true - but Michelle was beyond trying to make sense of the impossible.

For every struggle, every problem and all the strife that their lives had - Michelle had been sure that as long as they had each other, they could make it through anything.

Now, holding his hand - the smiles on their faces - Michelle knew it to be true.

Even with all the miscommunications of the past year, their relationship growing and changing, Quentin’s betrayal, her brush with death — Michelle could never regret the life she had chosen, the life that she had with Peter.

Laughing with him, crying with him, loving him - all the ups and downs - It was imperfect and messy and the outlook on their future seemed anything but certain.

Yet holding his hand, feeling the love and security in his eyes - Michelle was content, filled with a hope she couldn’t explain. 

Michelle was convinced that Peter - her dumbass _ husband _, the love of her life - would always be right there with her. That she would always be there for him. 

Michelle wanted to laugh - even in thinking about it, the idea seemed impossible.

But she knew it to be true.

They had each other. 

And no matter what happened - no matter what else came their way, Michelle was convinced so long as they were together - so long as they had each other - things would always turn out okay.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this series back in May and can’t believe the end is finally here. Thank you so much for following along! 
> 
> I love it when people scream at me in the comments. Or come out hang out with me on [tumblr](Https://seek-rest.tumblr.com)!


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